Harlequin
by MatsuMama
Summary: Byakuya falls in battle and wakes up married. Could anyone other than Hisana capture the heart of a Kuchiki? Bya/OC; Rukia is IN the fic and plays a large enough role to be noted. Char indicators do NOT equal pairings; THIS IS NOT BYA/RUK.
1. Chapter 1

_Pain, Kuchiki Byakuya decided, was an insufferably base phenomenon._

_Anything else was a controllable element. Discomfort could be chosen or discarded at will. As could most emotions; anger, lust, fear, hatred. Jealousy. Not to mention such basic experiences as weakness or hunger or exhaustion or delight. Any of them, all of them, easily eliminated, pushed away, ignored...given the proper fortitude of mind. _

_There was no question as to duty, or honor, or propriety; each could be executed with prefunctory perfection, at all times and under any circumstance - one simply had to be willing to accept the consequences, no matter what. And remember -_ always _- that the cost of adhering to Law was never so great as the cost of breaking from its strictures._

_Yes, pain was a thoroughly inexcusable rebel, coming and going when it wished and caring nothing for the sensibilites of higher beings. Caring not the least for rank or breeding or the cool dispassion which nobility so easily claimed. So the crown prince of the Kuchiki clan thought, immersed as he was in a sea of torment...and as his mind submerged beneath its surface and started to drift into the intoxicating thrall of agony, another insufferable thought came to mind:_

_Love. _

_Love was another facet of the heart, of the spirit, that refused to stay within bounds. Refused to adhere to rules. It also could not be chosen or discarded at will...no, that was not quite right. _

_Chosen it could be...but once done so, discarded never._

_For that matter, he was hard-pressed to name any differences between them at all. Pain and love, love and pain - one and the same._

_And death. The final piece in the trilogy of chaos that so unfortunately accompanied the strange existence called life. Real life, afterlife, any kind of life, it was always sealed by death, the third and final constant for any living soul._

_Pain. Love. Death._

_All so terribly inconveneint. So uncouth. So ignoble. _

_So goddamned disastrously inevitable._

_As Kuchiki Byakuya lay, broken and bleeding and barely conscious on the battlefield, his final hazy gaze resting on the gates of Heaven itself as war raged around him, he absently wondered which of the three Constants was going to claim him, now, at the end..._

_And then he wondered nothing at all, as a wash of agony swept over him, searing his mind with the whiteness of oblivion. Byakuya submitted to the irresistable tide and let it sweep him away..._

_

* * *

For a long time he knew nothing. Everything was clear, and soft, and soothing. Somewhere, he couldn't tell where, music was playing. Something sad and sweet and so heart-rendingly glorious that it nearly brought tears to eyes that had always been dry. _

_He heard voices, too. Some that he recognized - his mother's voice when she would sing him to sleep as a child - some he didn't. For a long time some of the voices seemed to be clamoring, begging for his attention, but he ignored them. After a while, they faded away and it was his long-deceased father's voice that drifted around him. _

_"Duty, Byakuya." The elder Kuchiki had loved nothing else, raised his son to follow in his footsteps..."Without duty we are nothing."...and Byakuya had followed, with only a stumble or two along the way..."You do not wish to refuse your duty, do you?"_

_...Hisana's face appeared before him, looking sad and - for some reason - forgiving..._

_"Byakuya!" His father's voice barked, the echo from the grave penetrating the gauzy haze around him. "Your duty! Will you complete your duties as a Kuchiki?"_

_Byakuya stirred, the harmony around him going slightly discordant. "Duty..."_

_"Or will you now, at the end, fail your family and your clan?" His father had always been merciless in life; wherever he was now, he had not softened. _

_Byakuya felt the inevitable need to respond; the beautiful peace of this white place shimmered and weakened as he struggled to find his voice. _

_"Duty..._yes_..."_

_The voices - all of them, including his father's - faded away. Hisana stayed for a while, but then she too faded into the white, lazy haze, leaving him alone. What peace should have been his was shattered as thoughts of his duty and station drifted through his mind, shackling his conscience with guilt. Slowly, he felt heaviness begin to return to his limbs, sensation and consciousness descending upon him again as he sank into the encroaching darkness..._

* * *

The first thing that intruded on his consciousness was the inevitable sensation of pain. It swelled and receded, an orchestra of unpleasant sensations that cut through his mindless drifting like a sawblade...for that matter, like a zanpaktou mercilessly honed and meticulously trained. That sensation had its own power, its own rhythm, and for a long time Byakuya was awash in it, thrumming along with its pulse like a metronome. A song worth avoiding at all costs, in the same measure that it was irresistably enthralling. 

For what seemed like an eternity, he rode those pulses like a surfer rode sun-kissed waves...

But a blissful, harmonious end was not his lot.

With infinite brevity, other sensations slowly invaded him.

The hardness of the matress beneath him. He was sure it was the finest available, certain that it was the most luxurious Fourth had to offer. He was equally sure that it was the hardest surface he'd reposed upon in centuries.

The rough fabric of the sheet over him was next; he could practically feel it scratching, could almost calculate the embrassingly low thread-count. He didn't know if that fact spoke more of his own pride or the poverty of his keepers. Not that either mattered all that much.

Slowly, other things became reality. The sounds in the air. The ambient temperature. He absently noted that several machines were monitoring his laboring critical functions. It wasn't long before he could discern the slow drip of medication into his veins, or the hushed voices of medical attendants as they buzzed in and out of his room.

Still, it seemed like forever before he could muster any kind of physical action on his part.

His first laborious effort was to open his eyes.

It was dark. Silent. A rush of emotions swept through him, all carefully categorized and supressed, nothing betraying his outer calm but the slow drift of thick, black eyelashes as he glanced around the pervading blackness.

He was fairly certain that he had controlled his breathing, that the only thing betraying his consciousness was his hooded, seeking eyes, but a stir in the corner of the room told him that even that slight motion had been detected.

He forstalled any banality by speaking first.

"I live?"

There was a minute hesitation before a resolute, velvety voice canvassed the darkness. "Yes, Kuchiki-sama."

"Call Unohana-taicho." A fair approximation of his usual dominance laced his tone as he struggled to hide how out-of-breath such communication left him.

Again, a quiet stir. "Kuchiki-sama, it is not advisable for you to expend your energy-"

"Call her." Briefer, but stronger. The tone resonated in the room in something close to the command of which he was capable, and after a long moment his attendant opened the door and slipped outside.

Another century passed while he waited in the dark, drifting in and out of coherence. As the door opened again, its intrusion was accompanied by a familiar spirit-signature.

The soft, steely tone wormed into his eardrums. "Kuchiki-san? You requested me." It was not a question, and the master healer calmly waited.

It took longer than he thought it would to find the breath for speech. "I live - how goes the battle?"

"Decided, and favorably," came the cool if brief reply. "You will heal, with time. Please rest, and I will attend to you when I can." A warm wash of lavender power-signature, the light of a door opening, and Retsu was gone.

He would have been affronted, had he the energy. As it was, the curt exchange had all but expended him. For an indeterminate time, he drifted, unaware of much else besides the velvety darkness around him and the various pains that assaulted him, even muted as they were by his heavy medication. When the agony became too much to bear, a cool hand graced his brow, more times than he could count, and inevitably he drifted away into healing oblivion...

Byakuya couldn't have guessed how long he faded in and out, how many fevers assaulted him and then slowly retreated, but finally came a time when he was once again coherent. In the dark, he reached and felt a presence nearby.

He opened his eyes; it was moderately easier this time, his vision focusing on the face of someone hovering by his bedside, violet eyes heavy with concern. The soothing, white place he'd been still haunted him, and for a moment he was confused.

"Hisana?" Something in his chest swelled as he felt a tiny hand slip into his own; with all the strength he possessed, he closed his fingers around it. "Hisana..." Words failed him; as it turned out he was glad he got no more out.

A voice, familiar but not Hisana's, spoke softly. "Nii-sama..."

Instantly, Byakuya was chagrined, that gentle reminder more than enough to bring him back to his senses. "Rukia," he managed, trying to wrap shreds of propriety around himself. "The battle..."

"Was won, Brother," Rukia replied softly. Something in her voice sounded pained. "Please, you must rest. Unohana says you are not yet out of the woods."

"I can't...I must..." Something was bothering him, something he couldn't explain; Byakuya felt like there was something terribly important he had forgotten. "My duty," he muttered, unsure of why that seemed so dreadfully important.

A shadow passed through Rukia's eyes, something close to guilt, and she gripped his hand tighter. "I told them, Nii-sama...I tried to stop them. But they wouldn't listen to me-" The door opened then, but instead of Unohana, the young attendant girl from before slipped into the room. Rukia's grip tightened further, but she seemed to know the girl. Rukia addressed her in a soft hiss. "Where are the Elders? He's awake and asking questions..."

The girl shook her head resolutely. "They won't come, not until tomorrow."

Rukia gulped, looking desperate. "They must come, they have to tell him-"

A shushed, whispered arguement ensued, trying his patience. Byakuya tried to demand what was going on, demand an explanation, but his strength failed him and again he floated in and out of consciousness. When he regained his senses, the young attendant was still in the room, watching him from the corner. Rukia was no where to be seen.

His voice came out stronger this time, stronger than it had been in ages. "Where am I? Where is Unohana-?"

"Rest, Kuchiki-sama," the girl's velvety voice all but commanded him. 'I will not leave you..."

"Unohana," he insisted, already tiring, but the voice brazenly refuted him.

"She is elsewhere, and quite presumed upon. I can see to your needs, Kuchiki-sama, anything your require..."

"I require Unohana," he insisted, before painful coughing assaulted him and before the fit passed he could taste blood and felt a cool hand on his forehead. Straining for control, for coherence, he forced his vision to clear and found himself staring into eyes the color of onyx, firm and resolute. For an instant he allowed the unexpected face to mezmerize him before he coughed again and, this time, struggled against the strong hands that seemed determined to attend his every need. "Fetch-"

"I will not fetch anyone, Kuchiki-sama," the rich, firm voice stated irrevocably, tiny lines of strain marring the delicately couched, long-lashed eyes. A slender hand brushed a strand of ebony hair behind a pink earlobe. "I will not leave your side, Byakuka-sama."

Staring at the unknown face, Byakuka coughed again, painfully, before managing a stone-cold sneer. "Do not defy me, child. Do you know who I am?"

Black eyes met his, and the woman inexplicably refused to budge. "I do indeed, know who you are, and for my part I am no child. And I will not leave you."

Outrage lent him more energy than he'd had in days, and with a derisive twist of his features Byakuya fairly spit. "I am the heir to the Kuchiki throne," he managed to resonate, "and you are nothing more than-"

A coughing fit overtook him, and when it cleared those perspicacious eyes were drilling into him.

"Kazumi, Kuchiki Byakuya," the woman said, meeting his eyes resolutely. "I am Kuchiki Kazumi. You might as well know my name, at least. More can come later."

That name meant nothing to him, which made no sense given the surname. "How is it you claim that title; you are not a Kuchiki," he managed to grate derisively.

Those black eyes saddened a bit, but held firm. "It is a name I have only borne for only days." She patted his hand sympathetically. "Please, Byakuya-sama, I beg you to rest; everything will be explained in time..."

"_Explain now!"_ he managed to roar, even though it drained most of his enery; something in the back of his mind was screaming for his attention, demanding he remember something, but he couldn't grab hold of it...

Kazumi placed a firm hand on his arm, onyx eyes meeting his with sympathy but without hesitation, and she quietly spoke.

"With respect, Byakuya-sama...my deepest apologies, but as of four days ago...I am your wife."

The darkness swirled up, and Byakuya allowed it to claim him.


	2. Chapter 2

The deceptively quiet words hung in the air like Senbonzakura released, so simple and delicate, yet easily slicing the inhabitants of the sickroom to ribbons.

"_Exactly how is it that I come to have a wife?"_

For a long time there was a tense silence; Rukia herself wanted to shiver at the undeniable fury behind the softly spoken question, and she was not even the direct receipent of Kuchiki Byakuya's interrogation. As it was, the Elders occupying the main floor of the Fourth squad room looked to a one like they wanted nothing more than to disappear on the spot. All councillors but one; the oldest of the Kuchiki advisors, Okatu had enough memories of a young and petulant Byakuya not to be completely completely mowed down by the wrath of his clan Head. Still, the loyalty of clan servants was bred deep as bone and ran nearly as far back as the Clan itself, and even wise old Okatu allowed himself a hard swallow before finding his voice.

"My Lord," he began, his normally booming, gravelly voice sounding a hair thin to Rukia's ears, "when they brought you from the battlefield there was barely a spark of life left in your Grace...all thought you were lost to us..."

"Do not make me repeat myself," Byakuya's velvety voice, weak though it was, cut through the prevarications like a knife through hot butter. "I fell in battle, and woke up here. How is it that a marriage took place in the interim?" A brush of humorless irony colored the tone, making Rukia want to shudder all the harder.

Old Okatu paled a shade, but held his ground; the rest of the councillors looked fit to wet themselves. "My Lord, it has long been our contention that you take another wife, that in the event of your death without an heir, the Clan would be thrown into chaos." Byakuya's glare heated, but this time he didn't deign to speak, his expression louder than any shout; Okatu stumbled on, to his credit managing to allow a long-harbored edge of frustration into his voice. "When you were brought to Fourth, we feared all might be lost, and in the best interests of the Clan we took the only action we could..."

Byakuya fairly grated, "_I_ decide the best interests of the Clan-"

"_You were dying!"_ Okatu turned purple at his own presumption, but somehow held his ground, trembling; Rukia very nearly felt sorry for him, wilting a bit as the tension in the room jumped up another order of magnitude. "_No one_ could say which breath would be your last, and we were damned if we were going to let this Clan fall into ruin!" Even Byakuya looked slightly set aback by the old man's passionate outburst as the aged councillor ranted on. "For _decades_ you refused our counsel, put off your duty as the clan Head; we fairly begged you not to take the battlefield without heir or magnate, and _still_ you ignored us. For _seven centuries_ I have served your family, served your father and grandfather, and you would you have us all fail the Kuchiki name on behalf of your intractibility?" The room rang with a lethal silence as Okatu tried to wrestle himself back under control. Rukia could feel her cheeks flaming for the shame of the outburst she was witnessing; her heart nearly broke for her brother, who remained deathly silent. After a seemingly eternal, indescribably uncomfortable pause, Okatu spoke again, his tone lower if still passionate. "Arrangments were made for the preservation of your name and your Clan. Judge me if you will, before the eyes of your noble ancestors. _My Lord_." The last words came out as a veritable challenge, and with his piece spoken Okatu and all the councillors knelt in the deepest prostration they could manage.

Rukia wished with all her soul she could disappear rather than witness this. After endless moments had passed, she snuck a peak at the figure reposed among white sheets. She'd never seen her brother so angry before; just the fact that emotion could be registered on his normally marble countenance all but drew the moisture from her mouth. Finally, after he seemed to wrestle with himself for a long time, Byakuya spoke.

"An uncosummated marriage hardly secures an heir," he murmured hoarsley, the odd tone raking through the room.

"It secures a magnate, My Lord, someone to lead the Clan..." came the rebuttal from somewhere near the floor. Byuakuya stirred in irritation.

"I have a sister."

Rukia felt all the blood instantly drain from her face, as much at the implication as at the near-desperation in her brother's voice. Surprised and wide-eyed, she glanced at him, for the first time noticing the shadows around his eyes. He looked positively hunted.

"An adopted _commoner_," Okatu hissed, not even bothering couch his disdain or look in Rukia's direction. She hardly cared; the Kuchiki clan's disregard for her was something she'd grown accustomed to a long time ago. "Hardly a leader for the Kuchiki-."

"_As is a trumped-up wife_!" Byakuya roared, sending everyone in the room shuddering like trees in a high wind. Rukia could fairly hear Senbonzakura begging to be released.

Into the razor-sharp atmoshpere broke a new voice, hitherto silent.

"I'm right here, my Lord Husband," Kazumi said drolly, seeming more or less unaffected by the debate. "And I am hardly trumped-up, nor am I deaf."

Galvanized, Byakuya turned his fury on the slender girl sitting straight-backed in the corner of the room. "A marriage wherein one member is comatose and gives no consent is no marriage at all. It does not bind the Clans and it does not bind ME."

With a hint of surprise, Kazumi regarded him with a lifted eyebrow. "But you _did_ give you consent, Kuchiki-sama," she replied, glancing at the Elders for affirmation. "Everyone present heard you."

"_Impossible_!" Byakuya spat. "At no time did I accept this duty..."

"You did, My Lord." Okatu spoke again, respectfully but firmly. "On the honor of everyone in this room, you spoke your word."

Not everyone could feel spirit power, but Rukia was nearly brought to the floor by the maelstrom of fury and disbelief that seethed out of her brother. For a long time she refused to look up, refused to meet his gaze, knowing what she would see there. But adopted or not, Rukia was a Kuchiki and she would not refuse her duty forever.

Raising her gaze, midnight to onyx, she accepted the question in Byakuya's eyes and tried to ignore the plaintive desperation behind them. She'd never imagined seeing such a vulnerability in his eyes, and it nearly tore her apart what she now had to do to him.

Slowly, solomnly, she nodded.

Without breaking gaze, Byakuya spoke with undeniable command to the rest of the room. "_Leave us_."

As the others filed silently into the hallway, Rukia reluctantly made her way to her brother's bedside, wishing to all the gods in heaven she didn't have to do this to him. When they were finally alone and the air pressed heavily against her skin, she started speaking.

"They were already here, Nii-sama, when I arrived," she gulped at the memory. "You looked like death itself; every breath appeared to be your last. Not one of us wasn't terrified to lose you, and they were, they-" Apology crept into her face. "It tried to stop them, tried to tell them that you would rather die..." Ashamed at her failure, she broke the gaze, unable to endure his look any longer. Rukia continued at a hoarse whisper. "They wouldn't leave you alone, Nii-sama, begging you to live, _begging_ you to claim your duty." Her brother seemed to stir at the word. "And then, out of nowhere, you spoke clear as a bell." She raised her eyes again to his, so that he could see she spoke truth. "You said, 'Duty'. The Elders were besides themselves, asking if you agreed to your duty, agreed to the marriage...and I swear on my soul Nii-sama, plain as day you said, 'Yes'." Byakuya flinched, settling into an odd resignation, unsurprised. She wanted to howl at the desolation on his face. "Not a soul here was not shocked by it, but even the officiant allowed that it was binding." Rukia's tears started to fall then. "The Elders were elated that the clan had been saved, but..." she trailed off to a whisper. "I knew you would not be pleased."

For a long time he looked at her, expressionless but for the flatness in his eyes that spoke volumes. Finally Byakuya broke gaze to look out the window, and when an hour had passed with no further words, Rukia slipped silently away, brushing tears from her eyes.

The Kuchiki heir never even noticed, staring as he was at someplace far away, one phrase repeating in endless litany in his mind.

_Hisana...Beloved..._

_I'm sorry_.


	3. Chapter 3

_"What are you doing?"_

_The young Kuchiki heir spoke with a scathing condescenscion that normally would have secured an instant prostration in any servant._

_In the lithe, spritely housekeeper, it did nothing but stiffen her spine._

_"Kuchiki-sama," replied the young, dark-haired girl, "I am dusting, Your Grace." Just that, paired with a blank expression, but a hint of irony hung in the air._

_Riling him as instantly as it engaged his interest. "I can see that. How is it you dare show your common face in my presence?" Byakuya put decades-worth of noble practice into the haughty tone, expecting it to wilt the girl before him._

_It did not. "I was doing my job, nothing more. It is hardly my fault Your Grace decided to come home early." The slender child stood in proper humility, but something in her posture smacked of insolence._

_Byakuya, crown prince of the Kuchiki clan, fairly lit up in fury. He very nearly seized reiatsu, so infuriated was he at the girl's presumption. "Leave. This instant." The girl couldn't know that he had been sent home from Academy for a poorly-timed display of hubris. Could she?_

_The girl bowed, properly but in a way that suggested nothing more than shallow duty. "As You wish, my Lord," the child murmured; but before she vanished, she raised eyes to glance in his direction._

_One simple glimpse of that intoxicating violet color in the eyes of the slender, dark-haired girl and Kuchiki Byakuya's dreams were haunted forever..._

* * *

A scent assaulted him. One far too lovely and organic to belong in a Fourth squad sick room. 

Pulled out of his fever-memories, Kuchiki Byakuya opened his eyes.

A late afternoon sun was streaming in the window of his room, a light-weight sheet spread across him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadowy silhouette; a soft, umbrous voice hummed through the room and seemed to resonate in his chest.

"What are you doing here?" Contempt fairly dripped from his voice, a timbre Byakuya had long ago perfected and easily summoned despite his weak health.

Kazumi Kuchiki glanced at him out of the corner of her onyx eyes, hardly sparing breath from her low humming to answer his question. "My african violets needed some watering, my Lord Husband, and I am here to see to them."

"I am not your husband," Byakuya grated, recall slamming into him. _I am not. _

"Indeed, that would be the argument," Kazumi replied calmly, one eyebrow slightly raised. "And yet, for the time being we seem to be thrust upon each other." A quick, sympathetic gaze, and Kazumi resumed her attention upon the potted plant at his bedside. "Still, regardless of issues of matrimony, I can hardly see a reason not to perk up your room a bit. The presence of a living thing, plant or otherwise, never proved detrimental to anything." Picking up the melodious strain where she left off, Kazumi began her song again; it wasn't lost on him that it seemed directed noticibly more towards the plant than towards himself.

Kuchiki Byakuya regarded the young noblewoman at his bedside. There was something oddly familiar in her coloring, in the shape of her face and the lines of her profile, but Byakuya was utterly certain that he had never met her before. That in and of itself was unusual; not only was he extremely well-versed in every name, face and station of every member of the elite Clans, but every single potential female mate had been paraded before him at some time or another over the last several decades. Ever since the passing of his first wife. Not only had his own councilors been varying degrees of desperate to marry him off to a far more suitable pairing then the one he had chosen for himself, but ever other Clan was in a veritable feeding frenzy over such an opportunity. A marriage into the Kuchiki clan was just about the choicest union any clan could hope for.

This girl's anonymity irritated him dreadfully. "How is it that I have never seen you before?" It was more command than question, but seemed to fail to impress her as did his every other endeavor to be scathing. Nothing seemed to daunt the girl, slender though she was; she seemed to bear an calm, steely constitution in any situation, and Byakuya found himself wondering just what it would take to rattle her. She actually finished her little tune before turning to meet his gaze, her own sightly-slanted eyes carrying a weariness he might have noticed had he been in a fairer frame of mind.

"No, I daresay you would not have seen me traipsing around before you, my Lord." She sighed. "Other circumstances aside, my family has had little cause or desire to make much of me."

"Which House?" He caught the slight flinch in her gaze this time.

"Shihouin," she replied softly. Byakuya's eyes widened slightly as her frame and coloring suddenly made sense.

"Impossible," he refuted derisively. "I know every single eligibile member of your Clan."

The shadows in Kazumi's eyes deepened. "Perhaps that is because, until very recently, I was not eligible." Byakyua stirred but remained silent; there could only be one reason for that. Quietly, Kazumi confirmed his suspicions. "My late husband took the battlefield as well. He was not as lucky as you." Byakuya shifted his gaze respectfully away from the raw grief in her midnight eyes; nothing to be done for it, and many fine shinigami fell that day, but he could grant her some privacy at least. After a long silence, she spoke again, as if oddly enough _she_ was the one trying to comfort _him_. "By all appearances you were not long for this world when they brought you to Fourth. I was here already, and your concilors were beyond desperate that the Kuchiki name not be left to flounder. Despite my circumstances," and here she did falter, just for a moment, "there was little honorable argument I could present for refusal." Her voice dropped with her gaze. "And it seemed fitting, considering..."

As she trailed off, Byakuya could see it all plain as day, the situation that his councilors had faced. Their leader, whom had originally been betrothed to the former Shihouin heir and princess - long before a flaxen-haired scientist and a violet-eyed housemaid had thrown every well-laid plan into absolute chaos - had lain dying, without appointing an heir, and just a Fourth wing or two away sat a freshly-widowed Shihouin woman, her husband's body barely grown cold...

An irresistable opportunity to mend old catastrophies. Byakuya fairly trembled with rage, and not just for himself.

"They took you, barely widowed, from your husband's deathbed and forced you into this farce of a marriage...!?"

Surprisingly, her chin snapped up and she meet his eyes resolutely, her glance flashing. "The Kuchiki's are not the only Clan raised to Duty, my Lord," she replied, her tone inexorable if pained. "In the valley of death in which we all found ourselves that day, a chance to save both our families presented itself. No Shihouin would have refused." Her black eyes flashed. "I can live with grief, My Lord; I will not live with shame."

Byakuya stared at her for a long time, absolutely still. Her words resonated deeply within him, something tightening in his chest like steel bands as their meaning sank in. He suddenly saw his predicament fully, and it was all he could do not to close his eyes against the despair that assaulted him.

In the midst of this woman's mourning over the death of her spouse, she had nonetheless seen her duty to family and Clan, and had chosen to do what needed to be done, regardless of the cost. She had made the ultimate sacrifice, and not just for her own clan, but for his as well...

It was something that he, Kuchiki Byakuya, had not in five decades found the courage to do for himself. The shame of that realization cut deeper than Senbonzakura.

It was quite some time before he summoned the dignity to do what was necessary.

"I apologize, my Lady, for any disrespect. It was not my intention to dishonor your choice by deriding our union." With a silent thunderclap roaring in his head, Byakyuka felt the steel trap of fate inexorably closing around him. "You chose well, and with honor."

She glanced at him, surprised and not a small bit grateful. And heart-rendingly sympathetic. She placed her small hand on his; both were trembling.

"Thank you, Kuchiki Byakuya-sama," she murmured, her gaze boring into his. "But it would not be honorable to presume upon an undesired union. I know the elders have already announced it, but we will make arrangments as soon as they can be brought together to nullify-"

"No." And then it was done. The bridge crossed. This time Byakuya allowed his eyes to drift shut against the agony; he couldn't help it. "The marriage will stand. I gave my word, as did you. I will not bring both our Houses to shame," _not again_ "nor will I disgrace the choice you made to save both of our names." With all the strength he possesed, Byakuya forced himself to open his eyes and meet her equally strained gaze.

She looked white as a sheet, but after a loud swallow she nodded. "As you wish, my Lord Husband."

The awkwardness of the moment was broken as the door slammed open and a tidalwave of red hair and tatoos burst into the room.

"Kuchiki-taicho!" Abarai Renji ground to a halt, something in his tight expression relaxing at the sight of his superior awake and aware. "Forgive the intrusion; they said you were recovering..."

Just as quickly, Rukia appeared in the doorway, looking furious and exasperated. "Renji! I told you, he's not well enough for visitors.."

Renji just snorted. "I'm not a visitor, I'm his vice-captain-"

Kazumi seemed to be on the same wavelength as Rukia, rising to regard the exuberant young man with a stern expression. "Kuchiki Rukia is correct; Byakuya-sama is not well enough for company."

Renji just glared at her, throwing a protesting Rukia off of his arm. "Excuse me, but I wasn't talking to you. You are-"

"Abari-fukutaicho," Byakuya's soft command cut through the air like a knife, bringing his subordinate up short. "I would advise you not to disrepect my wife."

Against all the odds of fate and fortune, the Kuchiki heir found himself fighting a tiny smile as a shocked silence blanketed the room and his vice turned a satisfactory number of alarming colors before passing out into a heap on the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

To Kuchiki Byakuya's great surprise and extreme irritation, his recovery languished out over several weeks. Not one to take anything lying down, Byakuya woke up every morning too weak to get onto his own two feet or even sit upright without pain. Despite the undeniably good care he was receiving from the most skilled healers in Soul Society, improvements came in imperceptible increments and for someone who was used to healing overnight it was beyond galling.

For any injuries to take more than a few days was thoroughly unacceptable, in Byakuya's esteemed opinion, and he daily grated at the glacial progress, making every effort to heal himself by force of will alone and refusing to accept anything less than near-instant recovery.

Unfortunately, no one seemed to agree with him. Unohana was summoned on more than one occasion, but she simply smiled and offered him her usual placating - and almost painfully exhausted - smile, attempting to soothe him and urging him to be patient. Because it would be unseemly to question her professional expertise, and because even the Kuchiki heir was pained to see the incomparable Retsu strained to the frayed edges of her strength, he kept his arguments in check and resorted to moderately successful efforts at hiding his frustrations during her visits.

Not that anyone else was nearly so lucky. Fourth squad very quickly learned that any task calling them into the Kuchiki room was a fate on par with bloody-death-by-Hollow. He harranged every attendant with the thorugh brutality of an interrogator regarding his care, plying them for any possible modification in treatment or medication that would see him more swiftly back to health. On more than one occasion, he directly overrode his medical orders and changed his treatments, certain it would hasten his recovery. The fact that his changes were, without fail, countermanded during his sleep hardly slowed him down; as each reversal was signed by Unohana herself, eventually and with great reluctance Byakuya stopped directly altering his orders out of respect for her...

But that didn't stop him from heckling the staff on every single facet of his care that wasn't actually written down. He had the latest attendant, a girl barely out of the Academy, in miserable tears and looking rather desperate for an escape before anyone made a serious attempt to shut him down.

"You can't possibly tell me you are unable to lower the analgesics," he growled at the sniffling girl, restraining a wince - not at the girl's plight, but at the fact that he was already at the threshold of pain he could reasonable tolerate. Still if a few more aches would ensure a swifter departure... "I insist the dosage be reviewed by a competant medical professional..."

"Go on, child. No review will be necessary." The woman's voice cut across the room with that infuriating blend of command and passive irony; he might have admired the tone if he hadn't already come to hate it so much. "He's half-delirious from pain already and I can assure you he hardly knows what he is saying right now." Taking from the girl the bowl she had been sent to bring in, Kazumi sighed. "Go on, back to your duties." With huge eyes, a loud gulp and a final sniffle, the novice seized on the dismissal as if it were a liferaft and retreated like a live Hollow was after her.

Shifting his attention, Byakuya managed to keep his ire just this side of hateful. "I am perfectly cogent," he stated flatly, addressing the slight against his coherence in favor of the comment on his pain level, which was frighteningly accurate and utterly beside the point. "I will not be undermined in front of subordinates, even those of another captain's squad."

Kazumi was unimpressed, a near perpetual state of being as far as he could tell. "You lied about your comfort level, my Lord Husband," she returned without budging an iota. "And while you may be perfectly intelligible, you were all but asking the child to disobey orders from her direct superior by changing medical orders - _again_ - which was clearly inappropriate." She met his dark gaze with an air of someone trying to protect him from embarrassing himself, an impression he found, well, oddly enough, embarrassing.

For long moments he stared at the woman who was his wife and tried to figure out why he had so much trouble finding anything to say to her that wasn't downright acerbic. Granted, their presence in each other's lives was far from ordinary or desireable but such animosity was not rational. _If only she would stop being so damned obdurate_...

"Ridiculous," he snorted. "I have been consigned to this bed for over a month..."

"You're lucky you didn't leave it within the hour, and _feet first_," Rukia snapped. One of the other two specters to haunt his room all hours of the day and night, she was getting pretty ragged with the stress of waiting as well. Not inclined to have any natural maternal instincts, Rukia's particular form of attentiveness was by turns abrasive and sickly-sweet; clearly she was on the more agressive end of the scale at the moment. On the other side of the room, Renji shifted uncomfortably; he looked torn between jumping to his leader's defense and an impatience for his recovery that was shared with everyone.

Calmly and with frightening detail, Kazumi started to rattle of the list of injuries that had landed him here in the first place. "You are recovering from a crushed pelvis, a nearly-severed left arm, a concussion that just barely missed caving in your skull, more broken bones than whole ones and a host of decimated organs. You heart had detatched from your chest and was found in the right side of your rib-cage..."

"Enough." Byakuya couldn't decide if it was shock or revulsion that made him shudder, ever so slightly. "That is not even possible-"

"Kuchiki Byakuya, I left my husband's body still cooling to assess your situation myself." Kazumi's eyes lazered him as a shot of something hot and bitter and distasteful filled his mouth. It took him a moment to realize it was shame. "I can assure you, I am not exaggerting your injuries." She watched him for long moments while Rukia and Renji imitated each other's studious attempts to disappear into the floorboards.

The silence was suffocating as Byakuya struggled to assimilate this information. He was forced, in some quiet and thoroughly private portion of his consciousness, to confront the extent of his near-fatal injuries. Much as he hated to admit it, that it took someone of his breeding and power so long to heal did support this woman's horriffic assessment. Which spoke, if nothing else, to the truth of the gravity of the situation that had led to their frustratingly binding nuptuals. A realization that only increased his overwhelming sense of entrapment. The identical look of misery clouding her own glare reminded him that she was hardly to blame, although the desire to be furious at something lingered.

He also felt, inexplicably, the tiniest bit sad. _The woman only married you because she thought you were dying. She never expected to find herself_ stuck _married to you..._A terrible irony at that; of all the women in Soul Society who would give their souls to be his spouse, he ended up with the one woman who found his very existence loathesome, as she was busy mourning the death of her _real_ husband_._ The one she chose.

_The one she loved_... A grimace twisted his lips; surely just the wounds flaring in a flash of pain, nothing more. What did he care if this woman had any regard for his life? She was duty-bound, nothing more.

_Never anything but duty..._

Sensing the shift in mood as Byakuya slid back into his scathing introspection, Kazumi spoke into the miserable atmosphere. "Now, if it pleases the good lieutenants, I would ask that they leave us as it is time for your spongebath."

Kuchikia Byakuya, a man of legendary restraint and composure, very nearly swallowed his own tongue. "I am perfectly capable of washing myself..."

Ignoring not only of Byakuya's flushing face but of Rukia and Renji's as well, Kazumi set down the bowl of warm, fragrant water she'd aquired a little more forcefully than necessary, sloshing the steaming water onto the table. "That is quite enough dishonesty for one day, I think. You can barely move, you are in too much pain to even sit properly, and I doubt you've gotten a proper scrubbing since your arrival. And since you've been so kind as to put the fear of all the gods into the staff, this delightful duty falls to your dutiful wife. Unless you'd rather have your sister do it?" One delicate eyebrow quirked while Rukia flushed crimson and choked noisily in the corner.

Byakuya stared at Kazumi with a blank expression that was the Kuchiki equivalent of gaping like a fish. _Dammit_. Whether by design or coincidence, she'd once again made this about duty, which even a scandalized and hastily married Byakuya could neither refuse nor deny her. Shifting his expression the minute hair from blankness into infuriated acquiescence, he glared at Kazumi and addressed the red-faced witnesses to his humiliation. "Rukia, Renji. Leave."

Even accustomed as he was to instantaneous obedience, the speed with which his order was carried out nearly made him cock an eyebrow. It would have been amusing, if their disappearance didn't leave him in a situation he would trade in a heartbeat for the death that had been denied him. Letting his gaze linger on the empty air where the leuitenants and only just stood, he addressed his wife without looking at her.

"Carry on."

He had several moments of quiet, punctuted by soft rustlings and the gentle wringing out of water from a soft cloth, to regret giving into this indignity. A regret which magnified the instant she began. Brushing the long (and, it must be admitted, somewhat tangled) bangs off his forehead, he nearly flinched; it had been decades since he'd been touched in anything approaching a caring manner, by _anyone_ much less by a woman, and the reminder stung so sweetly it actually hurt. He very nearly called a halt, and damned if it wsa a matter of duty or otherwise, but some parched part of his soul stilled his tongue. She washed his hair first, her tiny fingertips kneading his scalp in a way that was annoyingly luxuriant. She took somewhat longer than necessary, but he refused to entertain the possibility that she enjoyed handling the midnight locks. He had to fight to keep his eyes from sliding shut when she finally ran her fingers through his refreshingly clean hair, pulling it up and pinning it loosely out of her way before starting on his face. There was some soothing fragrance in the water, and the silken feel of the warm cloth lulled him; it took him long moments to realize he was actually leaning into the cleansing carresses, and as she deftly slid an arm around his shoulders and leaned him forward slightly so she gout get his back, he took advantage of the hunch to consternate himself.

_You are being an imbecile and an idot, Kuchiki_, he told himself firmly. _She is doing her duty, as was thrust upon her, and nothing more. You have no right to enjoy her attentions. Even if her hands are as soft as the lavender water_...he cut that thought off ruthlessly as Kazumi finished with his shoulders and settled him back on the pillows.

Noticing his grimace, Kazumi's forehead wrinkled. "Did that hurt? I can be more gentle..."

_Gods, no_. "I am fine," he responded stiffly, still refusing to look at her. A pause while she gauged the truth of his statement but she decided not to make an issue of it. Dipping the cloth again and humming faintly under her breath, she began delicately scrubbing his lacerated chest.

It felt so good it was nearly intolerable. She seemed to know exactly which wounds still pulled and stung, just which bruises still ached, and not only avoided exacerbating the discomfort but seemed to pull out aches and stiffness with each stroke. Somewhat desperately seeking a distraction for the relief, Byakuya forced himself to look anywhere but her as he did something he was rarely wont to do - tried to make small talk.

"Your family is Shihouin." Not exactly charming, and more of a statement then an opening, but he prayed to the gods she was granted more social graces than some Shihouins and would take the hint to break the awkwardness.

She did. "Yes," she replied calmly, with an odd sort of neutrality that made him wonder if she was amused by him. "I am not of the purest lines, but my lineage is predominantly Shihouin, so I was allowed to grow up in the complex." She smirked, continuing with a sooft chuckle. "It was quite an uproar, actually, although it was kept striclty within family walls - appearantly, my grandfather indulged in something of a dalliance with a Rukongian shoemaker's daughter, whom he favored and kept as his concubine well into his marriage to a lower cousin. Against all odds they produced an offspring - the shoemaker's daughter, not the cousin - a true-birth if not a purebred one. That child married into the family and produced me, and so despite themselves they were forced to accept and raise me." Glancing at Byakuya's incredulous expression, she grimaced somewhat ruefully. "Yes, true-births seem to run in my lineage." Her look sharpened, wary. "You should know it was one of the considerations that led your elders to approach me in the first place. When you were dying." Her midnight eyes were locked on his, waiting for the explosion.

For the second time in the last hour, Byakuya felt as if he was choking. "You...you were to be a _brood mare,_ should I survive?" For the millionth time he considered slaughtering his entire councilling staff. Had he been thinking more clearly, he might of noticed that he was almost more angry for her sake than for his own.

Her expression turned withering. "Well put, Lord husband." she replied drolly, producing a slight fllush to his cheeks that had nothing to do with her hands moving down across his abdomen. Seeing his chagrin, she relented with a sigh. "It was a consideration, as I said. The Kuchiki clan needed a magnate at the least, an heir at best. As with so many other things, I seemed to fit the bill." Running warm hands and cloth over the muscles rippling across his stomach, her voice tightened as she glanced at him. "You're a noble. Don't pretend to be surpised as such calculated manipulations." Another sigh. "We are little more than glorified chess-pieces, are we not?"

"_I_ am not," he grated, his jaw tightening. Feeling exposed in more ways than one, Byakuya turned his head stubbornly to look out the window. "I have spent half my life accepting such strategies without question, and the other half determined to defeat them."

Her hands stopped moving. Horrified at his unintentional admission, Byakuya clamped his mouth shut and dropped into a stillness that he had long ago perfected as an armor against embarrasment. It barely worked. _What is it about this woman that makes me lose focus?_ he asked himself furiously. Senbonzakura shifted, minutely, deep inside him - the zanpaktou was weak, barely sensate, but it was the first stirring of his soul manifestation he had felt since his fall in the war. It didn't speak - Senbonzakura rarely ever expressed himself with words - but it was a taste of something normal and reliable in the midst of this gods-forsaken nightmare, and Byakuya found a measure of relief. Taking a deep breath and feeling somewhat restored - more centered at least - he retuned to his senses.

Just in time to realize that Kazumi had every intention of giving him a perfectly thorough spongebath. As her beclothed hands drifted industriously south of his abdomen, it took every iota of his self control not to grab her wrists and stop her. Or react in...other ways for that matter. For his part, the only impetus behind the motive not to stop her was that he had a feeling she was expecting him to protest, which was certain to make him appear childish and quite possibly cowardly. He was damned if he would shame himself thus. Still, even his near-perfect self control failed to prevent color from rising to his cheeks at her ministrations. Almost unconsciously, he reached for a lifeline.

"If I were reinstated back to my home, you would not have to do this..." He instantly flushed as she glanced at him, eyebrow lifted and a knowing quirk on her lips. "That is, there are servants..."

She snorted. "Anyone raised to serve the Kuchiki's would rather fall on their swords than wash your privates, don't you think?" Her quirk turned into an all-out grin as he tried to think of an answer to that one. "And it's not like I haven't washed a bum or two in my time-"

"How do you mean?" Byakuya snapped, thrown by her ribaldry. Her jaw clacked shut, a strange look crossing her face and his own wrinkled in confusion. In a flash of insight, he grated. "True births run in your line and you were married for some decades," he stated, rather harsher than he intended, everything coming into focus. "Do you have a child?" It was out of his mouth before he realized how cold his voice was.

Her hands stilled, in a place he would rather they had not. For a long moment the two of them were frozen in an awkward tableau. Finally her hands moved - drawing breath, he realized he'd been holding it - much more perfunctory than before. He risked a look, but her eyes did not meet his. Slightly paled and working swiftly, she rubbed the cloth down his legs.

"_Had_. A son." Her voice was tight and she continued to refuse his gaze. "He died in infancy, some decades back."

The air lay heavy in the room.

A young intern, shivering, poked her head into the room. "Pardon, Kuchiki-sama, but it is time for your meds..." Turning white, she quickly averted her gaze and made to retreat.

"Don't run like a scared hen, silly child. If you are here to administer medication you'd better do it." Kazumi's voice was somewhat more harsh than necessary; as she pulled up the sheets and retrieved the bathing water, Byakuya caught a glimpse of abnormal sheen in her eyes. "I need to see about getting his lordship transferred out of here and back to his home, and Kuchiki-sama is in quite a bit of pain..." The rest was lost as the slender woman slipped out the door, clutching her bowl.

He almost called after her. Almost. Not being a monster at heart, Byakuya felt somewhat sickened at the result of his inquiry. The only thing that stopped him was that, had she turned back, he had no idea what to say to her, this woman - stranger - who was his wife.

By the time the needle jabbed into his arm, he rode thankfully away on the blissful waves of unconsciousness...

* * *

_Stupid stupid STUPID Yoruichi - who the hell likes to play tag anyway?? It's a stupid game for stupid kids, not for captains like her, and certainly not for the heir to the Kuchiki throne..._

_Hair tossing loosely around his hunched shoulders, Byakuya stomped through his mansion home with his asauchi slung angrily over his shoulder. Feeling it bouncing against his collarbone, he glared at the unnamed, impotent sword. And YOU - why the hell don't you have a freaking name yet!? Am I expected to labor at everything...!?_

_Storming into his private suite, he glanced at the long beams of sunset streaming in the large windows, his glare impossibly heating. _

_Godsdammit all, she made me frikkin miss dinner...!!_

_"Byakuya-sama-"_

_Halting mid-step, he whirled about to glare murder at the servant girl crouching in the doorway to his personal suite, noting as he did so that her posture was not quite deep enough to be properly respectful. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he scathed, indulging in an obscenity. "These are my personal rooms..."_

_He ground to a halt as she produced a tray of steaming rice and meat. Gaping at the proffered dinner, Byakuya found himself at a loss of words._

_"How-?"_

_"Shihouin-taicho asked that this be brought to your rooms." The girl's face looked flushed, for what reason he couldn't fathom._

_"Yoruichi!?" he gaped._

_"Yes, my lord," replied the girl. What was her name? Hisana? "She was here a few hours ago, informing your parents that you were on an errand for her and you would be late." Glancing upwards, the girl's eyes met his mischievously. "She said that as far out as she'd left you, you would be home right around now..."_

_"Shut up!" he snapped, furious. Snatching the tray from the girl, he noted that her small smile didn't budge, neither did she flinch. Scooping a handful rice into his mouth, he regarded her iciliy. "You are not afraid of me?"_

_Her eyes twitched, as if she was prepared to answer the expected affirmative. But something in the deep-sea color hardened, and she answered honestly instead. "No." Her head tilted, inquisitive. "Do you wish me to be?"_

_He was as irritated by the frankness as he was oddly exhilirated. "No," he snapped, trying to regain the upper hand. He glared at her. "Do not be afraid of me. That is an order." There - that should do it._

_Her feline lips curled upwards a hair higher. "As you wish, my Lord..."_

* * *

He half-woke, once, while they were moving him. His wounds were such that even as sedated as he was, a particularly sharp jarr dragged him out of his feverish dreams long enough to pray, to every god he could name, that he would not fall back asleep.

Memories were hard enough to leave behind when one wasn't forced to sleep deeply enough to relive them.


	5. Chapter 5

_"Give it back!!" Byakuya hollered, snatching wildly at the hair tie floating on the breeze._

_Unfortunately, the other end of that hair tie was attached to a slender, mocha-hued hand that moved so damn fast it was practically inconceivable. "No," quipped the hand's owner, grinning at him maniacally before giggling and deftly turning his next lunge into an embarrassingly easy throw down._

_Sprawled on the ground, Byakuya spluttered in abject fury. "You can't say no to me!! You're obligated to obey me, dammit!!"_

_"Ha! Obey a undisciplined child? Don't be ridiculous." Golden eyes watching him with amusement as he dragged himself off the ground and pulled himself into a reasonably dignified stance._

_"Our marriage is contracted; you are my wife in practice if not by law-!" Byakuya had much more to say besides but before he could draw breath he was flat on his back, pinned and completely immobile. Golden eyes stared down at him from inches away with an undeniably dangerous glint._

_Byakuya struggled to hide the sudden terror suffusing his limbs, but Shihouin Yoruichi-taicho just watched him for a long moment. _

_"Byakuya-boo," she said in a deadly earnest voice. "I do not love you. You would be married to someone when there is no regard? Nothing but duty binding you?"_

_The question terrified him even more than the vulnerability of his position. What good was it to question such things, and what did _love_ have to do with anything? Put out, he brushed away the question with a healthy dose of noble snobbery. _

_"Our clans have arranged the union; it is as good as done already." As she continued to stare at him, Byakuya felt himself start to squirm. "Together, we'll be the strongest nobles in Soul Society, once our clans are joined-"_

_"What about you?" Those molten eyes glittered at him, almost sadly. "Is that what you want for your life, really? No love, no true companionship? Nothing more than the acquisition of power?"_

_This was becoming too much, and there was that word again! Byakuya could feel his cheeks warming with an uncomfortable sensation. _

_"Of course," he spat. "We are nobles; what else could we want?"_

_The sadness in Yoruichi's eyes was back, deeper than before, but she let him up off the ground. _

_"What more indeed." It was said quietly, almost to herself, and since Byakuya didn't understand what she meant he pretended he hadn't heard her._

_It wasn't until the next day that it occurred to him that he might have done better to pay attention to his betrothed._

_"Gone?!" Byakuya stared dumbfounded at his grandfather, wearing an icy expression that within the Kuchiki clans was tantamount to unbridled fury. "What do you mean, _gone_?!" _

_Ginrei returned the look calmly but with an undercurrent of anger that was unusual for the normally unflappable Kuchiki leader. "I mean exactly that. Gone. Disappeared from Soul Society, and even the special forces have no idea where." He watched Byakuya struggle to spit words out._

_"But...WHY?" His thin frame vibrated with affront as Byakuya struggled to assimilate such improbable information. "When will she be back?"_

_His grandfather's bushy eyebrows drew together. "There's little question that she has fled to the real world, and even less question as to why. As for when - or _if_ - she will return..." His head shook back and forth dolorously. "I've warned them, time and again, that they permitted that girl far too much leeway, but even for her this is incomprehensible..."_

_Incomprehensible indeed; Byakuya felt like he'd been sucker-punched. "What do you mean IF she comes back?? Why one earth wouldn't she - what could possibly be worth staying in the real world ?!" _

_Kuchiki Ginrei fixed his grandson with a flat glare. "Not 'what' – but '_who_', rather." Ginrei's broad shoulders twitched in anger as he turned to leave. "Not now, Byakuya - there is much to do in light of this...scandal. The Shihouins have much to answer for." With that, he disappeared, leaving Byakuya more frustrated and confused than ever. _

_Stomping back to his rooms in a fit of his own, he scattered terrified servants right and left, muttering under his breath._

_"Impossible. _No_ one is worth betraying Clan__..." _

* * *

_No more..._

Byakuya forced his eyes open. It was difficult, but far easier than reliving a past he fervently wished he'd never lived through even once. The past was past, done and gone. Useless to immerse oneself in it all over again, when nothing could be changed. And so he forced introspection aside and tried to focus instead on his surroundings.

He was comfortably positioned on a thick pallet, covered in heavy silken blankets. It was dark; thick and elaborate curtains surrounding him on all sides, although the few beams of light that snuck through the folds indicated that beyond the drapings it was full day out. Gods only knew how much time had passed while he was unconscious, but at least Byakuya was clearly no longer in Fourth, and for that he was relieved. Movement was still difficult and pained, his senses still dulled by the medication that was keeping him just this side of hellish misery, but reaching with his reiatsu was measurably easier than it had been thus far. So it was with relatively small effort he determined that, as usual since his fall, he was not alone. He was just trying to figure out which of the two occupants in his room to address first when one of the curtains was yanked back.

"Nii-sama," Rukia looked weak with relief, the dark circles under her eyes suggesting that Byakuya had been out for quite some time. A tired smiled quirked the corner of her lips, the look on her face as warm as he'd ever seen it. "It's good to see you awake; you were in such a state during the move..."

The other inevitable face appeared behind her, Kazumi looking just as relived although markedly more scrutinous. "I had them medicate you as deeply as possible, but moving a body as broken as yours was not easy." Those black eyes bored into his, looking carefully for any hint of discomfort. "Are you in pain?"

"No." It was only a slight lie; he really was feeling more comfortable than he had in weeks, still weak as a newborn kitten but with fewer gnawing spikes of pain. To alleviate the half-truth, he offered as conciliatory a statement as he could muster. "Thank you, wife, for seeing me back home." It was stilted, but it was still gratefulness expressed, and he tried very hard to ignore the shocked look on Rukia's face. _It is really so unusual for me to be accommodating?_

Kazumi just smiled, looking a hair amused. "You are welcome, my Lord Husband, although you might find Fourth was more comfortable. Here, you must rely on _my_ judgment for you care and, as you might have figured out by now, I am not so easily cowed as the Fourth attendants." As if to prove her point, she touched Rukia lightly on the shoulder. Still lost in shock, the adopted Kuchiki jumped and whirled around. "I think you had better see to your duties, Rukia-san. Renji will want to know his captain his awake, and the Thirteenth has been too long without proper leadership."

Chagrined, Rukia dropped into a formal bow and made to leave, but not before summoning the familiarity to rest her hand on the blankets for just a moment. "I'll return tonight, Nii-sama. Rest well, Kazumi will take good care of you." A frown briefly rested on her face, violent eyes momentarily fierce. "Don't give her any trouble either, you hear?" Looking half-shocked at her own presumption, she bowed again and disappeared in a wave of kidou.

_Me_ _give_ her _trouble_? A more ludicrous statement Byakuya could not imagine. He glanced suspiciously at his espoused, but if she had caught the outrageous admonition she hid her amusement well. Kazumi seemed far more intent on assessing his physical condition, leaning across the bedclothes to lay a tiny, soft hand on his forehead. Despite himself Byakuya flinched at the contact, his cheeks warming as the memory of his recent bathing returned to him. Why he should be so uncomfortable with her hand on his head of all places, after suffering that indignity, he couldn't figure, but neither could he wait for her to remove her hand.

As if reading his mind, Kazumi withdrew and looked at him intently. "I've allowed the analgesics to be lowered considerably from where they were before; you cannot heal if you cannot function, and some pains are beneficial. But," her tone dropped warningly. "Neither will you heal if you are in too much discomfort to sit still. I am trusting you to tell me if the pain becomes too great." Between the tone and the heat in those dark eyes, Byakuya found himself answering almost before thought.

"I will." He blinked once, a little surprised at himself for the easy acquiescence, but seeing as it was a reasonable request there was no reason to retract his agreement. Byakuya eyeballed Kazumi again, wondering for the hundredth time what it was about this woman that unhinged him from the cool dispassion he so easily wore with everyone else. Certain he had been maneuvered somehow, his eyes narrowed. "How is it that Unohana agreed to release me into your care?"

"I have some measure of healing talent, although not the sort that Fourth squad usually finds boasts, but enough that Unohana consented to my supervision in this case." Kazumi stopped abruptly, as if she was revealing more than she had intended, but before Byakuya could speculate further her head tilted and she smiled faintly. "Are you looking a gift horse in the mouth? You were pretty insistent on this arrangement, are you so surprised to receive it? I would think the head of the Kuchiki clan would be used to getting whatever he desired."

Byakuya shifted uncomfortably, aborting the motion as it summoned up various intolerable pains. "I was under the impression my desires were not of much consideration to you." He had intended to go for a mildly sarcastic levity, but there was too much heat in his tone and instead he sounded petulant to even his own ears.

As if that would daunt her, for Kazumi only grinned wider. "Oh no; you'll find that there are few things more important to me than your health and happiness. Though that may prove to be little comfort to you, overall." On that enigmatic statement, she began to pull back the remaining curtains. The late afternoon sun proved mildly painful to Byakuya's eyes, but he was certainly not going to complain over so small an irritation.

Instead he found something far more pertinent to complain about. As the last curtain was set back, Byakuya felt his blood pressure rising in shock.

"This is not my room."

Kazumi regarded him with some surprise as she finished tying back the curtains. "This is the private suite of the Head of the Kuchiki clan-"

"These are my father's rooms." It was a simply enough mistake to have been made, but the servants should have warned her and Byakuya was too angry to govern his response. "Move me at once."

"You inherited them upon his death, there is no reason not to use them." Kazumi's bland flippancy settled into a stern frown. "Moving you again is out of the question-"

"I will not stay here. I cannot-" Byakuya cut her off, finding it harder to breathe by the moment. "Obey me at once, I beg you..." Too weak to move himself, he shut his eyes against the shame of his entreaty, praying that his debasement would incite her obeisance. When silence met his request, he grated in a hoarse whisper. "Do you know where it is you've put me?"

A shifting of the padding told him Kazumi was settling onto the bed next to him, but instead of the stern voice he was expecting, she spoke with soft and agonized compassion. "I _do_ know - the servants were beside themselves when I commandeered these quarters." Her voice dropped, even as the tone grew a hair firmer. "But it was not appropriate to put you elsewhere. You are the clan leader, and wounded besides - placing you back in your childhood bedroom as has been your habit for the last several decades would look weak and sentimental. I am sorry, but this was for the best." A long pause; Byakuya assumed Kazumi was studying him but refused to open his eyes and meet her gaze. "Byakuya-sama, it is _just _a_ room_-"

"I have not been in here since-" _Since Hisana_. Byakuya tried to get the words out, but they died in his throat. How could he admit to such weakness, that five decades later he still could not bear the sight of the room that had held his first wife's last breaths? The woman before him was still mourning her own spouse barely a month hence; he could not burden her with his own pain, his own failings, when hers were still so new and raw. With a sickening wrench, Byakuya realized there was nothing for it but to silently bear his own burdens. Swallowing hard and still refusing to open his eyes, he grated barely above a whisper.

"Leave me."

After a long time he felt her rise and quietly leave the room and for some reason her own silent empathy weighed heavily on him. And then there was nothing but silence and solitude, alone a room he had sworn on his soul he would never set foot in again. Only this time, he had failed not one wife, but two.

* * *

Sliding the screens closed behind her, Kazumi took a deep breath and paced along the walkway facing the blooming sakura trees. Taking in the lovely garden view, she tried to shake the apocalyptic look on her brand-new husband's face as she drifted into the tiny garden, seeking some peace. The views and surrounding gardens were beyond beautiful, albeit decidedly unkempt; with a tiny shake of her dead, she stubbornly dispelled the doubts assailing her. She had too often in her life had to make choices for others that bordered on cruelty, all in the name of doing the most good. She had shouldered consternation and the questioning of her decisions countless times before, she could do it again.

_Then why does his agony haunt you? _A previously silent part of her brain asked. _You've gentled many a man before; is it so different to gentle a husband? Are they not all cut of the same cloth...?_

Besieged with concern and myriad burdens, Kazumi walked among the sakuras until she found a perfect spot to sit down and wrestle with her thoughts for a while.

But peace did not come to her, nor did nearly as much time alone as she'd hoped. It seemed she had hardly settled herself before an obvious spirit presence descended on her. Anyone but a Shihouin would have missed it, but Kazumi's lips twisted wryly.

"This is a terrifically unlikely place for you to show up," Kazumi muttered, without much surprise. She didn't even bother glancing up into the sakura blossoms above her head.

"Nonsense," A velveteen voice purred from the branches. "We just had a war. I'm checking to make sure my friends and family are alive and well."

"Which category would Byakuya fall into, I wonder?" Kazumi fought to keep her smile from breaking loose; despite the long-held contempt the Shihoin clad held for her visitor, she had always enjoyed a sort of rapport with the rogue noblewoman and found it impossible to reject her presence on principle. She had often gone so far as to admit to herself, in the privacy of her own thoughts, that she had missed her most infamous cousin.

A warm chuckle. "Both, I guess, although I doubt he sees it that way." The laughter died, Yoruichi's tone turning serious. "How is he, really?"

There was little to no reason for Kazumi to prevaricate, so she answered honestly. "Mending. It's a wonder he survived at all; with the wounds he took, he should be dead a dozen times over..."

"That's not what I meant and you know it." A glint of gold caught in the moonlight. The shadowy figure waited.

Kazumi sighed. "Worse than I thought possible, even with the warnings of both you and his sister." She shot an onyx-eyed glare into the leaves. "You really did a number on him, you know."

"I did not," came the retort, although there was a weary sadness behind it. A sigh followed. "All I did was fail to meet his expectations of me." With a motion that was utterly silent, Yoruichi dropped onto the ground next to Kazumi. "And I tried to get him to entertain the idea that there was more to life than just duty." A mischievous grin. "So, maybe I _did_ do a number on him. It would explain why he still hates me so much."

"He doesn't hate you," Kazumi contradicted, considering the subject of their conversation before continuing carefully. "He hates himself, and that's even worse. Yoruichi-sama, I can honestly say I've never come across as case as difficult as this one. He can't even bear the simplest, most impersonal contact..."

Yoruichi glanced at her sharply. "Does he know who you were? Among the Shihouin, I mean." Golden eyes glittered fiercely as her voice dropped dangerously. "Kazumi - does he know what you _do_?"

"Of course not," Kazumi replied, with a withering look and her own dose of ferocity lighting her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. That would be nothing short of disastrous right now." Under Yoruichi's continuing glare, Kazumi glared back. "Unohana knows, of course, and she approved of this course of action. Not that it was her call to make; even she knows better than to tread outside of her own expertise. Frankly, it's a wonder I was not called in decades ago, although you know how and why Fourth monopolizes me." Kazumi sighed. "Rukia suspects, but she will be amenable once she finds out the truth, and may even prove an asset. That lieutenant of his might be a problem..."

"Ha," Yoruichi snorted. "No problem is bigger than what Byakuya is going to do when he finds out. You'd better out-do yourself with him, Kazumi; I'd hate to lose my favorite cousin to a fatal overdose of Senbonzakura." Golden eyes glittered. "If he finds out who you really are before you tell him-"

"I know," Kazumi returned quietly, reaching for the steady and self-assured calm she usually wore. It was difficult, but she managed a fair approximation. "I know what I'm doing."

Yoruichi fell silent, relenting with a nod. "Very well; this is your are of expertise. When will you begin breaking through him?"

"I already have." With a steely look to match her tone, Kazumi glanced significantly at the doorway beyond the sakura blossoms.

Yoruichi twitched in surprise. "Is it safe to do so, when he's so weakened...?"

"No," Kazumi replied softly, with honesty. "But with him, I think it might be the only way." Not wanting to dwell on that, Kazumi regarded her relative with wry look. "I'm surprised that you care, cousin. Your mutual hatred is legendary among our Clans."

"Don't be ridiculous; of course I care," Yoruichi huffed with a wicked grin. "If I hated him as much as you all think I do, I would have let our marriage take place." Her face twisted wryly. "It's a fine line between love and hate, cousin, where only the bravest dare tread." A knowing wink, and then she was gone, her voice trailing after her. "And who's to tell the difference, in the end...?"

Leaving her with more questions and no answers. Kazumi waited until the shadowy spirit-power signature had vanished completely before getting up and brushing off her knees.

"A fine line between love and hate," she muttered quietly to herself, allowing a tiny sigh as she turned back toward the house and the wounded spouse who lingered there. As she left the serenity of the blossoming trees, that traiterous voice in the back of her head voiced itself once more.

_And in the case of Kuchiki Byakuya...is it love, then, or hate?_

With a sigh, Kazumi dodged a truthful answer. "Who's to tell the difference...?"


	6. Chapter 6

Sliding the screen doors open, Kazumi silently took in the master bedroom in which Byayuka lay. Full night had descended upon her during her fruitless sojourn among the sakuras, and it was only moonlight that lit the room before her, her own shadow elongated within the silvery light pouring in around her. For a long moment she stood there, her slender frame silhouetted, observing the room's occupant.

Kuchiki Byakuya lay among the luxurious bedding, eyes closed and reposed, but only an idiot would have assumed he was resting peacefully. Though his eyes were closed, there was a tension to his frame and it was far more likely to be a refusal to view his surroundings rather than somnolence that kept the thick black lashes shut. Sentimental and childish, but Kazumi ignored that for now; to her trained eyes, the slight tremors that rippled beneath the man's pale skin suggested more than emotional discomfort, and with a sigh she let herself into the room, closing the door against the night behind her.

Like a wraith, Kazumi drifted across the room until she stood next to the pallet. With sharp eyes, she watched the man that lay before her, ignoring the tugging sensation deep within her sternum. Kuchiki Byakuya's appearance was not much exaggerated by rumor or legend, and even a woman in her circumstances could not utterly discount the stunning figure before her. Byakuya's ebony hair gleamed in the faint moonlight, midnight-blue highlights shimmering off his mane and setting off the pale, high-boned features of his noble-bred face. Despite his weakened state, Byakuya's broad shoulders and rippling muscle structure suggested a scintilating masculinity that only the most hardened of females could have ignored. Even wounded and scarred, Byakuya was stunning in repose.

A fact that cut little ice with Kazumi, who firmly ignored the pulse that was trying to race beneath her skin. The man before her, spouse or not, was a patient in need and that was all that need concern her.

_Really_...

"You are in pain." It was more statement than question, and not said as gently as she would have wished. The man before her rattled her more than Kazumi dared admit, and she fervently hoped that nothing but wry steel came through her tone. A slight hitch in his breathing pattern indicated that she'd been heard, and though Byakuya managed to restrain all other hints at his alertness, neither did he deny her assessment. The Kuchiki leader had a will and a determination for privacy that rivalled her own; Kazumi forced herself not to find that enticing. "Would you like me to alleviate it?"

"No." Said softly but clearly; Byakuya was about as incoherent as Kazumi was stupid, which was not at all. And about as stubborn as a mule to boot. Byakuya continued softly. "As you said, wife, some pain is beneficial..."

"I also qualified that too much pain would hinder your recovery." Sharper than necessary, but Kazumi was irritated; such stubborn hubris annoyed her terribly. "I can give you some painkillers-"

"NO." Byakuya cracked an eye open to emphasize his point. He had just regained some measure of coherence and perception; depite his discomfort, he was clearly unwilling to surrender either again.

"Then allow me to assist you," Kazumi responded, recognizing an opportunity when she saw one. "In a way that is not medical."

For a long time, those hooded eyes stared at her in the darkness. "How?" The tone was reserved, wary. Spouse or no, Byakuya clearly still saw her as little more than a direct threat.

Kazumi stifled a sigh. "As I said, I have some measure of healing power. Not like you would expect, but it can help reduce the pain without dulling your senses." She waited; Byakuya was too smart to jump blindly at such a statement.

"At what cost?" Both midnight eyes were open now, watching her like a hawk.

This would be delicate. "You must let me touch you." At the predictable twitch, Kazumi continued. "My healing abilities are different from anything you might have seen in Fourth. Direct contact will be the only way I can apply such relief as you need right now."

She watched him struggle with the concept, some part of her writhing with compassion. That the very idea of being touched be someone other than a wife dead more than five decades could unsettle him so was a painful reminder of how deeply his true wounds ran. But, in her favor, his pride ran even deeper and he would not pass up the chance to have his pain diminished without losing his senses. At least, that was what she was counting on, and if Kazumi was right in this, then she would have a basis upon which to build everything she would eventually have to do to this man.

"Very well." The soft baritone hung in the air, the dispassionate tone at odds with the reluctant look on Byakuya's face.

Kazumi restrained a sigh. She was very rarely wrong. It was one of the problems inherent with her particular ability. It didn't help that her power had already shown her far too much of the man before her...

Supressing a sudden surge of her own discomfort, Kazumi settled herself onto the bedding. She had done this many times before, so why was she suddenly apprehensive? It was not as if she was unused to sharing a bed... Softly, she scooted over to the lean, pale figure lying prone among the bedclothes and doing his damndest not to look at her. Though he had aquiesced, Byakuya's frame was stiff and uncomfortable; something would have to be done about that.

After all, this was Kuchiki Byakuya, one of the strongest spirit beings in Sereitei, and Kazumi would have to tread carefully; his sense of spirit power was extremely keen. His raw spirit power had already overwhelmed her once....Kazumi cleared her throat and glanced at those dark eyes, more blue than black at this close distance, and spoke honestly. "The more contact I have, the better it will work...?" It was a question, which was of paramount importance; Kazumi never ever used her talent without permission. Firstly, it would hardly work against a guarded soul without doing irreparable damage, and secondly she had long ago vowed not to use her power without consent. It was the only thing that made it possible to live with herself.

Of course, that didn't mean that she had to fully explain the extent of what she could do, either. Among the healing squad, what she did was relatively known, both valued and feared but rarely questioned. It didn't _need_ to be explained. In the case of Kuchiki Byukuya, even a partial disclosure would probably result in him outright killing her.

Not exactly a desireable result. So, stifling her conflicting emotions, Kazumi kept her explanations to a minimum and waited until Byakuya finally and reluctantly nodded his assent before carefully settling herself at a stretch alongside his body and snuggled up next to the trembling body. Timing it perfectly, Kazumi pulled on her reiatsu at the exact moment Byakuya flinched from her touch.

It was feather-light, the barest execution of spirit power, but even so Kazumi's instinct scurried to make sure the touch hadn't been detected. Images flooded her mind, flashing like a bezerk light show, but she ignored them from long practice, reaching instead to see if the vast ocean of pooled power that resided inside the man before her had been disturbed. She didn't sense so much as a ripple in the weakened zanpaktou and allowed herself a tiny breath of relief. Once _inside_, she could move about with a bit more freedom.

Externally, she began to hum, an affectation she developed a long time ago when an audial distraction was needed that did not require too much thought on her part. Within, she flitted through Byakuya's mind like a skitterbug dancing across the surface of a still pond. Thoughts, memories, experiences - all of them shimmered beneath her, tangible and alluring, but she skated on by them, focusing on the parts of his psyche that were roiling. His anxiety was easy to detect; it radiated out in waves, and it was the one thing she could influence with little qualm. Touching it lightly, she pitched her humming to a lower note, matching it to her energy signature as she soothed him. Byakuya would feel little more than a sudden diffusion of his unease, but since she was only a heartbeat away from dulling his pain he would assume that it was just a side-effect of the relief she had promised him.

Which was the next thing on her plate. Kazumi's ability had several facets, one of which being a razor-sharp empathy that allowed her to quickly and accurately assess the basic physcial and mental state of nearly everyone in her vicinity. Burdensome at the best of times, while whe was actually _within_ a subject it was impossible to dull the sensations, and the wounds Byakuya had taken were galling. She felt every single tear and render as if it was within her own body, and if she worked quickly to cut off the nerve endings it was not just for his sake. With the precision of a surgeon, she touched his consciousness and conditioned him to feel less than a tenth of the pain he was currently experiencing. When the agony abruptly cut off, Byakuya wasn't the only one sighing in relief.

Quick as a wink, Kazumi withdrew herself from Byakuya as much as possible. Now that his senses were not clouded with pain, her invasion would be easier to detect, if he tried to look for it. And, once in place, a conditioning required little maintenance; it would remain and operate just as she wished until she released it, assuming the patient didn't fight it. And, since Byakuya had no idea what she had done to him, he wouldn't know to fight it...

"Thank you."

Kazumi looked up into midnight blue eyes only inches away, somewhat surprised at the sincerity. This was not a man accustomed to being grateful for anything, and for a moment she worried that her touch had been a little too soothing.

"Not at all; I promised you relief, and you have it." A little too brusque, but dammit if the man wasn't handsome and he was _right there_. Kazumi found herself hesitating; there was only one way to maintain a conditioned state of being without making it relatively permanent... "Unfortunately, you will have to put up with me for a while. The effect will dissipate the moment I let go of you."

_Great. Nice job. You've just committed yourself to laying at the side of one of the most handsome men in Sereitei for most of the night. Well done_, Kazumi scathed herself mercilessly.

The voice in the back of her head sounded far more pleased. _Well, he IS your husband now...would it be so wrong to enjoy some of the perks? And it's not like you couldn't make sure he enjoyed it..._

_That would be tantamount to rape, and you know it_. Kazumi's cheeks burned. _I will NOT do that to him_.

The voice in the back of her head backed down, but not without a final jab. _It might do him some good to remember what he's been missing...and it might do_ us _some good too_... Kazumi firmly shut off that traiterous little voice, glancing guiltily at Byakuya.

He did not seem to notice. Taking a deep breath, Byakuya tried to settle into a different position but Kazumi forstalled him.

"Hold still, you stubborn idiot; just because you can't feel anything doesn't mean you're not still injured." Fussing at some of his dressings, she executed another swift push of reiatsu to make sure he was still intact. Kazumi was angry and letting it show, which was not like her. Annoyed with herself and her agonizing position, she snapped at Byakuya and hoped that the tone would be taken for concern. "You lie still; I'll just stay next to you until you fall asleep. Once I know you're sleeping deeply enough not to feel it when I release you, I'll leave you in peace." One thing was for damn sure; no way could she lay next to him for a second longer than necessary...

Instead of looking relieved at her promise to leave him alone, Byakuya's eyes slid open, the shadows around them deepening. For a long moment he looked at her, and when he finally spoke with was with an odd hesitation. "If you...stay, and maintain contact..." He drifted off, looking slightly flushed. "If it is not too great a burden, I would prefer not to sleep too deeply." The velvety baritone sounded rather hoarse.

Kazumi regarded him somberly; lightly, she brushed his mind. "Why are you afraid to sleep?" she asked quietly.

"I am not afraid," Byakuya rushed, looking like he wished he'd never spoken. He wrestled with his tongue for a long moment. "It just...I would rest better if I did not have to dream."

"You are having nightmares?" Kazumi asked with all the innocence she could muster; she was already reviewing them, her psychic touch as delicate as a spider-web.

"Memories." Still looking haunted, Byakuya stared directly into her eyes, daring her to make light of his admission.

Something within Kazumi twinged as she hit one of his more recent dreams. This admission was going to be risky. "If you don't mind my staying," she said slowly and cautiously, watching his reaction closely and tring to make sure he couldn't tell that she was reading him. "I can make sure you sleep undisturbed. With your permission, I can hold the dreams at bay as well as the pain."

Byakuya looked nearly as relieved as he did wary. "I would appreciate that. Wife." He tagged the last on awkwardly, almost as an afterthought. A near-desperation lit his eyes at the possibility she offered him.

"Close your eyes," Kazumi murmured hoarsely, unable to bear those stunning eyes staring at her for a moment longer. "I hope you don't mind if I hum you to sleep; it seems to aid the effect..." Only a partial lie, and after a long moment Byakuya took the bait and his eyes slid shut. The moment they did, Kazumi pulled her spirit-power spider-web a hair tighter and rendered him unconscious.

It proved to be little relief; the man was nearly as gorgeous asleep as he was awake, marble skin seeming to catch every moonbeam that trickled into the room so that he appeared to be glowing. Scars and bruises faded away into the night shadows, broad muscular chest expanding and contracting regularly and with ease. It wasn't long before Kazumi began to focus her own perception on the little tune she was humming, as a distraction of her own from the pulse that tried to race. Almost unconsciously, she found herself brushing a thick strand of hair out of his eyes...

It felt glorious; Kazumi's breath caught in her throat at the silkiness. As her slumbering husband moved slightly at the contact she hesitated, but instead of flinching he seemed to lean towards the caress. A quick scan told her that he was still asleep, and responding to his unconscious motion, she started to gently and soothingly stroke Byakuya's hair.

"Part of you remembers, doesn't it? How good it feels to be caressed. Part of you still needs it..." Kazumi didn't need to worry about waking him up, not with her influence on his consciousness, but she spoke softly, more to herself than anything. She continued for a while before she realized that he wasn't the only person enjoying her ministrations.

_Dammit._ Despite her professional experience, Kazumi's pulse was racing. _This is for_ his _benefit, not yours_, she scolded herself firmly. _This is to get him accustomed to the touch of another person, not so that you can revel in how soft his hair is, or how well-sculpted his body_...

Ignoring the voice in the back of her head (and the blushes its suggestions were producing), she shoved her insecurities aside and continued to stroke him. She probably still enjoyed it a lot more than she should have, but it hurt her to see someone so starved for affection. Losing herself in the rythm of her circling fingers and his quiet, deep breathing, Kazumi settled in to wait for dawn.

* * *

_Noooo!!_

_Waves of anguish wracked Byakuya; deep in dream, he felt as if nothing existed but a terrible, ungodly rendering and a loneliness that tore his soul to shreds. Throat ravaged from unshed tears, he clutched a tiny, still body in his arms, he begged from the depths of his soul that it would return from the dead and not leave him alone, and when it didn't respond he screamed and screamed and screamed..._

With a jerk, Byakuya woke up. He was panting, heart racing, and for a long moment he struggled to orient himself.

_What was that? A dream,_ _but_... The sense of loss was still overwhelming, as real as if it were his own, but though the vivid dream smacked of experience, Byakuya knew that no such thing had ever happened to him. His grief at Hisana's last breaths had been deep and stupefying, but he had never lost himself in the throes of such inbridled emotion. _A memory? If not mine, then whose_...?

A twitch at his side confused him all over again; looking down, he saw the slender figure of Kazumi wrapped tightly around his arm. She appearantly had fallen asleep at his side, but she was not resting peacefully. Her thin frame vibrated and spasmed, her breath coming ragged, and in a shock-wave of understanding Byakuya figured it out.

_Not my memory. Hers_. The echo-effect of her nightmare still clutched at his emotions, and without thinking, Byakuya pulled Kazumi into his arms, ignoring the pain that flared at the motion. Horror and loss continued to pour out of her in thick waves, almost like bands of kidou, even though she was clearly lost in dream. Whatever she was remembering had caught him up in it too, stealing Byakuya's breath with its intensity. No sooner did he have her clutched tightly to his chest than her arms wrapped around him instinctively, holding onto him like a liferaft. Still half-asleep himself and hardly aware of what he was doing, Byakuya held her back, cradling her head to the hollow where his shoulder met the muscles of his neck. She seemed to fit perfectly there.

"Shhh," he murmured, too lost in the torrent of emotions she was spilling everywhere to realize what he was doing. "Be still. It is only a dream..." That felt like a lie; it was too vivid to be only a dream, and the slender figure in his arms writhed harder. "You are safe; I'm here." A long-dormant protective streak rose up in Byakuya, and he tried to comfort her as well as he knew how. "Kazumi - it is all right. You are not alone..."

Those words seemed to sink in; slowly, as Byakuya continued his soothing litany, Kazumi began to relax, the agonizing emotions staving back until only the slightest tremor shook her slender frame.

Lulled by her slowed breathing and the warm limbs wrapped around him, and too sleepy himself to wonder why he was holding a stranger in his arms, Byakuya slipped back into dreamless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Slowly drifting awake, two rather intense sensations assailed Byakuya's awareness.

The first was a delicious, langorous warmth that wrapped over and around him, soft as breath and smelling faintly of jasmine. That was a decidedly delightful feeling, and without consious thought he burrowed deeper into the softness with a tiny sound that in anyone else would have been a grunt of pleasure. An answering mewl murfled into his ear and strong, silky limbs tightened around him and returned the snuggle, drugging Byakuya with an almost-forgetten luxury of propinquity that in his semi-somnolent state seemed utterly natural.

The second bit of sensorial input was that someone else was in the room. Someone _not_ snuggled up next to him. A _few_ someones, actually.

Being born of noble lineage brought with it nearly as many inconveniences as it did advantages, one of the most common examples of the former being assassination attempts. Having rather extensive experience of his own in attempts on the life of his bedmate, Byakuya reacted on pure instinct, calling on Senbonzakura faster than he could form a conscious thought. The zanpaktou's sluggish response was only a minor betrayal, one he didn't have the time to remember the cause of. Leaping from the bed, Byakuya was on the first of the assailants before the dark-clothed person had time to close the distance from the doorway to the pallet.

Unfortunately, Byakuya also didn't have time to remember that his body was in nearly as weak a state as his soul slayer, and while the adreanaline coursing through his veins masked much of the pain, his limbs were also sluggish and poor to respond. It took a long moment of struggle, punctuated by more grunts of his own then of the intruder's, before Byakuya finally got his hands around the masked jaw and tugged hard enough to snap the neck. As the body dropped bonelessly to the floor, Byakuya whirled around.

"Hisana-!" The cry was out of his mouth before he could think, but the person he was trying to warn was already on her feet.

Kazumi also had her hands wrapped around a mercenary, but instead of snapping the his neck, the assassin flailed in a rather violent spasm and then worldessly fell to the floor. Before Byakuya could summon his lethargic body into motion to aid her, a third murderer slipped throught the window.

"Get back!" Byakuya hollared, trying to leap between Kazumi and the killer, but inexplicably she dove _for_ the figure in the window. Expertly ducking a slash or two of the mercenary's knife, Kazumi darted inside his frame and clamped her hands onto either side of his head. The man in black froze.

For a moment nothing happened. Then the assassin twitched and started to howl, but Kazumi hung on grimly. A violent seizure shook the man and with a final scream, he pitched forward onto the floor and didn't move. After a heartbeat frozen in grisly tableau, Kazumi drew her breath in sharply and dropped to her knees next to the limp figure.

Roaring for his personal guards, Byakuya crossed the room as quickly as he could and closed in on Kazumi, who was trembling and clutching at her own head.

"Are you injured?" Dropping to his own knees partly from concern and mostly from weakness, Byakuya took her head in his broad hands and started probing for injuries. Kazumi tried to brush his hands away, but before she could do more than grunt, the door flew open and a retinue of personal bodyguards dashed into the room. To a one, they froze in shock when they saw their clan leaders crouched on the floor surrounded by motionless bodies. Byakuya barked at them. "Check them - I killed the one by the door, the others are-"

"Dead," Kazumi murmured thickly, still rubbing her head. She glanced at Byakuya through pain-hazed eyes. "Trust me, they're very dead."

With a growl, Byakuya accepted her assessment, throwing another acerbic glare at his guards. "My wife is injured; contact Fourth immediately."

"NO." Kazumi sounded a hair stronger, breathing deeply and clutching his arm. "I wasn't injured. It's just a headache." At Byakuya's doubtful look, Kazumi managed to glare. "I'll be fine, really. _You_ on the other hand, should get right back into bed, and _now_." Just that quickly she had the upper hand on him, and to Byakuya's intense annoyance, his legs started trembling nearly violently enough to put him on his backside.

A very naked backside at that. Now the the adrenaline was fading, Byakuya realized with a lurch that he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. Fighting a blush, he rounded on the guards who still hadn't moved a muscle. "Secure the area, immediately. Then come back in here and clean up this mess. After that," Byakuya growled, his turning icy. "Report to Okatu; I will want an explanation as to why three armed assassins were not discovered until they were in my presence." Paling, the guards nearly elbowed each other in their haste to get out of the door and vanished in a tangle.

Just in time for the last bit of Byakuya's strength to give out and for all the aches and pains to return to him in a rush. With a grunt, he slumped towards the floor but not before strong hands caught him.

"Gyah, you weigh a ton," Kazumi grumbled, hauling him over to drop onto the pallet and fussing at the bedclothes. Untangling a particularly thick and soft blanket, she studiously drew it around Byakuya's unclothed frame. "You should lie back down..."

"No," Byakuya refused; though a tremor of pain rippled through him, there was no way he was going to lie down like an invalid when there were dead assassins on his floor. Surprisingly enough, as if she were reading his mind, Kazumi nodded in agreement.

"Well, you cannot stay here for the time being, that much is certain. I'll help you to another room where you can rest..."

Byakuya shook his head, wincing. "I must meet with the council; this attempt on our lives does not make any sense. Neither one of our families has any reason to wish an end to us..."

"Of course it makes sense," Kazumi rebutted with a frown. "_Our_ families might be delighted with our union, but there are plenty of other Houses that would love to take my place." As Byakuya gaped at her, she grimaced, lightly touching Byakuya's forehead to assess his condition; he felt nothing at the contact, but her frown deepened.

Byakuya had no time to let her worry about his health, brushing her hand off. "Regardless of the cause, this breach was unacceptable - I must meet with the council immediately." When Kazumi glared, Byakuya glared right back. "This attack came because I appear weak; waiting to deal with this will only enforce that image."

Kazumi snorted, but didn't argue further. "Fine; we can get you set up in a comfortable chair in the study, and you can call the council to you." Byakuya glared at her, but she was having none of it. "You may be improving, but I will not allow you to go gallavanting all over the manse. You're their leader - let them come to you." She sighed. "First things first - let's get you dressed. You cannot preside in a comforter."

She then proceeded call in several servants, who disappeared in a flurry of motion to bring the robes and grooming items she requested. Once she had secured said items Kazumi proceeded to dress him, which Byakuya found intensely embarassing. He could hardly complain, however; while a night of unencumbered sleep had gone remarkably far in allowing his body to heal itself, he still had a ways to go and the lingering pain rendered him too stiff to clothe himself effectively. So he let his de facto wife doll him up, an activity she seemed to enjoy far too much. Byakuya was just barely presentable when his vice showed up.

"Kuchiki-taicho!" Renji glanced around the room, his eyes tighening when they fell on the bodies in the room. He paled slightly. "Taicho, my apologies for failing to protect you. I should have remained at your beside..."

_And see me curled up naked around my wife?_ Anyone else would have snorted at that mental picture - a blushing but furiously determined Abarai standing watch in the dark while looking anywhere but the bed - but Byakuya simply spoke, his expression flat. "You did not fail, Abarai, my own guards did." His gaze sharpened, hooded eyes searing. "Why did you leave the squad behind to rush here with an apology?"

"I summoned him," Kazumi interjected before Renji could do more than blush. "I require his assistance."

Byakuya let an eyebrow twitch heavenward. "I did not give you leave to command my subordinates."

"No, you didn't," Kazumi replied, an odd twist on her lips. "But you cannot walk to your study, and unless you want to be seen hauled around the manse by a girl..." She broke into a knowing grin. "I'm sure getting flashed there by your vice would save you quite a bit of embarassment."

Byakuya just stared at her cooly. Renji nearly choked on his own tongue. Unfortunately, as with so many things, Kazumi had a point. Without looking at him, Byakuya spoke with a tone that could have split ice. "Abarai-fukutaicho, transport me to my study."

Renji's cheeks nearly matched his hair. Kazumi rolled her eyes and glared at him while Byakuya did the best he could to ignore them both. Finally, Renji took a brave step forward and with a look like he was facing his own death, slipping his hands under Byakuya's arms and lifted him. Renji looked like he would have been happy if someone just killed him right then and there. In a flash, they were gone; Renji undoubtedly wanted to get this over and done with as quickly as possible.

Which suited Kazumi just fine. It left her alone in the room with three corpses. Sighing, she walked over to the one that Byakuya had killed. Despite the unnatural angle of the neck, Byakuya's method of killing the man would have left him far easier to identify than the ones whose brains she had melted. Carefully pulling off the black face cloth, Kazumi peered closely at the visage, frozen in the surprise of his death, for only the few seconds it took to identify him.

A member of the SMC. Not someone she knew, but definitely Shihouin.

With quiet intensity, Kazumi cursed a blue streak.

* * *

Quiet as a whisper, Rukia slipped into the sakura garden.

She didn't need to be so surreptitious, but made her way stealthily out of long practice. For decades after her adoption, as a lost and loney outsider among her new Clan family, she had often found her way into this particular garden, something peaceful rustling in her heart as the leaves whispered on the breeze. Long before she had found friends and family in the real world, Rukia had basked in the beauty of this private little oasis; it was the only place on the Kuchiki grounds that she had ever felt at home. She knew every tree and flower and bush, and knew exactly which sakuras had the perfect roots to curl up around, snuggling her in a near-embrace and letting her pass many a lonely afternoon drifting in and out of sleep. Often she had found the garden an excellent retreat when her heart was heavy and confused, a habit that she knew was shared by at least one other person.

Which was why she was here this evening.

Another council meeting had dispersed only hours ago; well, dissolved, rather. For months now, council had been convened time and time again to discuss the assassination attempts on Kuchiki Kazumi, which had hardly been successful but continued unabated. The fact that no further incursions had made it past the Kuchiki walls - or that, thankfully, no confrontations had resulted in further deaths - only infuriated Byakuya more. The lack of bodies meant lack of evidence, and the Kuchiki heir was beside himself to find out which Houses were so openly challenging him. Added to that was the sudden and inexplicable disappearance of all three assassins' corpses from Fourth only hours after their interrment following the first disastrous attempt, a mystery that had yet to be explained and had Unohana in as close to a tizzy as anyone had ever seen her.

Yet, despite the active investigation of two Gotei captians, no evidence presented itself. No matter how many councils Byakuya called or how many security improvements were implemented, the attacks and feignts continued. Even Byakuya himself, well recovered from his injuries and mostly restored to his former strength, could not seem to get the attacks to relent. His frustration over the issue was by now enormous, and Rukia could well imagine at least part of the reason.

So, stealing through the trees as the sun drooped towards sunset, Rukia wove among the sakuras looking for her brother.

She found him at his favorite clearing, in the very center of the garden. She was, as always, faintly disappointed not to have found him singing; only once had she stumbled upon him rumbling a folk ballad in a velvetine baritone, but she had always hoped to come across that unique treasure once more. Of course, he was far too disturbed this evening for such foolishness, his posture straight and his face as marble as the bench on which he sat. But even from a distance and in the gloom, Rukia could see that the hooded eyes were stormy. Quietly, she slipped into the clearing, found a soft bit of moss to kneel on, and waited patiently.

It wasn't long before her brother spoke, which in and of itself bespoke of his turmoil.

"You did not attend dinner."

Rukia very nearly smiled; her brother tried so hard not to appear paternal, but it rarely worked and it was difficult not to express how adorable she found him to be at such times. Schooling her face to Kuchiki-like stillness, she answered with the formality expected of her.

'My apologies, Nii-sama. I should have sent word that I would be working late at Thirteenth." She inclined her head submissively, wondering as she often did why she found this so easy to do for her brother, when in nearly ever other circumstance she was brazenly outspoken. "I hope my absence did not offend."

"Kazumi missed you."

Rukia let that simple statement, and all it's implications, hang in the air. Not only was it her brother's way of saying _he_ missed her, but it also told Rukia that Kazumi was on his mind. He was worried about her.

"She is well?" Two could play at this game, although Rukia truly hated dancing around the subject, skating across hidden meanings like ice-dancers.

"Yes." When on troubled subjects, her nii-sama did so love to retreat behind walls of brevity.

As if she would let him. "And _you_, Nii-sama? You are also well?" For a street rat, Rukia was getting quite adept at asking questions full of layers and meanings. It was not just his physical health she was asking for, and he would know it.

"Yes." For a long moment of silence, Rukia wondered if her parry would go ignored, but the Byakuya sighed ever so faintly. "My strength has returned, but it appears that is not enough. I do not understand why the Houses feel as if they can defy me in this manner."

Trust Byakuya to take the assassination attempts personally. It stemmed from a combination of his high-bred hubris and his hatred of political manipulation. Though he had long ago learned the lengths to which the clans would go to secure their goals, he remained to this day infuriated at such machinations. It was the closest thing Byakuya retained to a kind of innocence, and it was one of the things Rukia loved most about him. Being from the streets, where the only politics involved whether or not someone bigger and stronger was inclined to kill you, she tended to side with her brother.

"It's unfathomable," she agreed, letting some heat into her voice. "Yumichika says it's just downright ugly, and Ikkaku and the others in Eleventh offered their services to patrol the grounds. I think they'd welcome the chance to knock some heads together." She grimaced, shaking her head; Eleventh's bloodlust had been raised to manic proportions during the war, and the relative peace in the few months since then had gotten them antsy for more action. "Matsumoto has even offered an incentive program - she's promised to go on a drinking spree with whoever brings in the most assassins, buy so far only Kira and Hisagi seem interested in taking her up on it..."

She allowed a good-natured grin to cross her face, an expression of camraderie that quickly died when she saw the icy look in her brother's gaze.

"People in the Gotei are discussing this?"

Opps. Bad move. "Uhm, yeah." Rukia swallowed. Hard. Then she fidgited. "Well, everyone knows about your death-bed marriage, and it's hardly a secret that three assassin bodies disappeared from Fourth...add to that the fact that Renji's been stalking around grumbling about security for the manse in general and your private suite in particular and...uhm...they kind of put it all together."

"Put what together?" Byakuya exuded a vague curiosity that was his way of expressing bafflement.

Rukia remained quiet for a moment; she would have to say this delicately. "That people are trying to off your wife." _Ew_ - okay, so subtlety eluded her, but dishonesty would be sniffed out in a heart beat. Wincing, she met her brother's eyes. "There's a lot of debate as to which House it might be, or whether..." Rukia's throat sponatneously closed on her.

"Whether...?" Byakuya grated relentlessly. Rukia swallowed again; though he may at times be adorable, even she couldn't help but squirm when Byakuya was glaring holes through her.

"Whether or not it's within House," she muttered, lowering her eyes apologetically. "Some...are even wondering if you are behind it."

A horrible silence froze the air around them. "_I??_ But why would _I_..." The icy voice broke off, dumbstruck.

Rukia seized her chance; it was about damn time he heard it and she was tired of dodging the rumors. "You've refused marriage for decades, and it's not a secret how you and Kazumi were forced on each other. Half of Sereitei is convinced that you're just dying to relieve yourself of her." Getting into it, Rukia felt her familiar out-spokenness taking over as she actually managed a glare. "You haven't publically claimed her and everyone knows you would never settle for a marriage of state. They're practically taking bets on to when Kazumi turns up a bloated corpse!" At that she frowned; over the months, she had started to get quite attached to her new sister-in law and she'd hate to see anything happen to her. Riled up, she jabbed finger at her astonished clan leader. "You'd better not let anything happen to her, you know!" Rukia's jaw snapped shut as it slammed home exactly who she was dressing down.

Against all odds, Byakuya seemed to deflate. That is, his posture wilted a centimeter, which for him was about the same thing. "I will not let her come to harm," he said softly, almost to himself. "I _cannot_. I cannot allow another wife to-...and yet, to truly ensure her safety..." He trailed off, struggling for a long time while Rukia studied the moss beneath her knees and felt like her chest was splitting open. She hated knowing he was in such turmoil.

When he finally spoke again, it was barely a whisper. "Hisana loved this garden."

Rukia's eyes flew upward in surprise; Nii-sama never spoke of her sister. "Di...did she?"

He nodded, eyes far away. "It was planted for her enjoyment. She loved sakura trees." The very air seemed to still. Rukia waited for a long time, but he seemed unable to say more.

The sun slipped below the horizon, full twilight descending upon the clearing. Somehow, in the gloom, Rukia found the words she'd been wanting to say for years.

"Nii-sama," she began, glancing at him. It was too dark to see his face; she found safety in that. "I didn't know my sister. I was only a baby when she left me-," Breathing hurt, just for a moment, but she faltered on. "When she left to come here. I know what you have told me. I know _you_, and I know that she loved you. And that tells me a lot." Byakuya might have stirred, or it might have been the breeze in the leaves; either way, Rukia was not yet finished. "But the thing is, she also didn't know me. She couldn't have - I was just an infant. Still, even though she didn't know anything about me and had lived apart from me for so long - she never stopped looking for me. She wanted me to be safe, and happy, no matter what." In the darkness, she slipped a hand into her brothers; they were trembling. "I...don't think she would want you to be sad forever. If she could want _me_ to be happy - a baby, nothing more - then, I _know_ she would want the man she loved to be happy too. No matter what."

In the silence, Byakuya's strained voice was barely recognizable. "I swore on my soul I would never dishonor her memory."

Brazenly, Rukia slipped a slender arm around Byakuya's own, offering it a tight hug. "Then I don't think you should choose to be sad forever. She would not want that to be her legacy."

Byakuya's breath hitched, a hand coming up to rest on hers where it lay on his forearm. "Rukia..." A long silence. "Hisana was the love of my life."

Carefully, Rukia meet his eyes in the darkness. "You have a new life now, Nii-sama. I can imagine no greater gift to give my sister's memory than to choose to be happy in it."

What happened next Rukia would never forget. Byakuya sort of..._folded_. Clutching her, he leaned over until their foreheads were touching, just for a moment, his hooded eyes closed in a quiet kind of agony. He took several deep, ragged breaths, trying to draw strength. "Gods above, you look so like her..." It was more breath than whisper, and later Rukia would wonder if she even heard it. They sat like that for a heartbeat more, and then he pulled back into himself.

"It is late." Just like that he was Byakuya no longer and Nii-sama had returned. "Your rooms have been prepared..." It drifted off into a question.

Rukia, likewise, drew herself back into the formal posture they so often exchanged. It hurt, for some reason. "Thank you, Nii-sama, but I must be heading back, Thirteenth cannot do without me as yet."

Byakuya nodded in the darkness. "Extend my wishes for health and recovery to Ukitake-taicho," he murmured.

Rukia dropped a quick bow and turned to leave.

"Rukia." Byakuya's voice stopped her in her tracks; she twisted her head to peak back at him over her shoulder. "Thank you."

"For...what, Nii-sama?" Rukia asked, her pulse fluttering.

He thought about that for a long moment. "Your blessing."

Without another word, Byakuya turned and vanished in a puff of kidou.

* * *

Kazumi finished her prayers to the family shrine and rose to her feet, padding softly across her room to finish her evening ablutions. While she had spent a week or two attending to the Kuchiki heir during his pain-filled nights, as soon as he was able to sleep on his own accord she had been assigned lavish quarters of her own on the far side of the sakura garden complex. In truth, she had been quite relieved; dammitall if it wasn't seven kinds of torture to lay next to a gorgeous man she could never have night after night, and after her first night's weakness had resulted in her falling asleep and stealing a cuddle, she had been terrified to allow such a lapse in judgement again.

_The man married you by accident and with one foot out the door, and only stayed married to you to salve his damn pride_. She had seen enough of his nightmares and memories over the weeks to know how deeply his love and devotion for his first wife truly ran, and knew when she was faced with a hopeless cause. Not that she wanted to try to seduce the man anyway. It's not like he was handsome and intelligent and crazy powerful...

Kazumi shook her head firmly, turning back the sheets on her pallet. _He doesn't even know what he's really mourning_, she reminded herself. _And you are a widow and in no position to get all moony-eyed_...

Kazumi had just settled into bed when a rustling at the open window drew her attention. It was from the garden wall, so she was not afraid of it being an assassin; the garden and surrounding rooms were kept especially secure lately. Curious, she drew a blanket around herself and rose, drifting in the direction of the window. She halted halfway there as a shadow passed in front of the moonlight; a heartbeat later there was a soft sound at her garden door.

"Who is it?" Uncconsciously and in spite of her confidence that the gardens were safe, she drew reiatsu and prepared to defend herself...

"It is I." Like a midnight god, Byakuya entered the room.

For a long moment, Kazumi just stared at him. "What are you doing here?" The vicious little voice in the back of her mind started to whisper suggestions as a blush sprung across her cheeks. _Don't be ridiculous, that is not even anatomically possible_...

"I am here to offer my protection," Byakuya answered, with an almost determined formality.

"Offer your..." Kazumi, so expert on reading mental states and subtext, found herself completely baffled. Hell, she was having a hard enough time dealing with the idea that Kuchikia Byakuya was standing in her room at all, and that wasn't even accounting for the way he was looking at her...

"I am here," Byakuya announced, eyes all kinds of blue and staring straight through her, "To offer myself to you as a husband."


	8. Chapter 8 LEMON

Flitting away from Rukia and the center of the sakura garden, Byakuya hardly paid attention to where his shunpo took him as full night settled around him. His thoughts were far too tumultuous for the dimensional leap to take him too far, but he'd needed to get away from his adopted sister and the maelstrom her words had stirred in him. Never in a century would he have guessed that his conversation with his half-sister would have turned so personal - Rukia held herself to a formality around him that Byakuya could not deny he himself had established - but now that his intropsection had begun, he found it difficult to stop.

Hardly a day had gone by in the last five decades that he had not thought of Hisana. Byakuya had shouldered that fact, half gift and half burden, for since the moment of her death and had never minded in the least. Kuchiki's did nothing by halves, and a duty accepted was a duty fulfulled, always and without exception. That he had strayed from his duty to marry Hisana in the first place only served to magnify the weight of obligation with which she had left him. To fail her, even in death, would have only compounded the shame of breaking from duty to Clan in the first place. And so, after her death he had returned stalwartly to the duty demanded of him by family and Clan, confident that he could honor Hisana's memory as well without the two ever coming into conflict...

And then Rukia had come into his life. Like a ghost from his nightmares, appearing right there in the Academy. All his careful mourning and burden-bearing had started to slip from him in barely-perceptible increments from that moment on, and Byakuya was nearly overwhelmed to realize that it was still toppling precariously. He had thought Rukia's imprisonment and near-execution had been the ultimate trial of his resolve, testing his loyalty to his family against his loyalty to Hisana. Both he and Rukia had nearly lost their lives to that struggle, and Byakuya still had difficulty trying to sort out whether he had any regrets as to how he had chosen to walk that razor-sharp tightrope over the fire of tribulation. There was still a faint part of him that felt as if, even as hard as he had tried to stay on the clear path of duty, he had nonetheless failed everyone by choosing poorly.

And now, only a few words spoken in the darkness and his honor was once again on the line. For months he had struggled with the reality of his new spouse. Kazumi was a problem to Byakuya. She was _infuriating_. In every possible way. Kazumi was smart, efficient, undeniably attractive, skilled and personable in ways that made even Byakuya take note. She deftly handled matters of political importance as easily as she ordered the kitchen staff for dinner. Her razor-sharp wit and refusal to be daunted by Byakuya's icy, removed demeanor nearly drove him to distraction. It had been so very long since _anyone_ had not found him intimidating - even Rukia with her stiff formality that had of late begun to bother Byakuya, for reasons he could hardly understand - that it was rather a heady experience. It made him want to find out more of what went on in that spurious mind of Kazumi's, a desire so unlike him that he wondered rather desperately what that minx was doing to his head. As Byakuya's pride slowly started to bend in the face of his wavering reticence, he was forced to admit that it was quite possible he had found in his new wife an equal to himself.

And that scared the ever-loving shit out of him.

His love for Hisana had been unquestionable, but also largely unchallenged. Hisana had been a loving, duitiful and caring spouse, a wealth of adoration he had never hoped to secure for himself, but boldness in her station as a Kuchiki wife had been beyond her. Even after years of marriage, she had been unable to summon the presence to ask the maids for even the simplest of favors. A perfectly normal reaction to having risen from the serving stratus herself, Byakuya had always excused, but the strength of that rationalization had faded with use like a worn parchment. Despite Hisana's love and obvious devotion to him, an air of gratitude had always hung over her, as if she had been living a dream within his love and feared waking from it. Even as the spark of her fiestiness began to fade over time, Byakuya rationalized her growing despondency, attributing it to the insidious disapproval of Clan even before he knew of Hisana's fruitless search for her sister. In his youth and ardor, he had brushed aside her timidity, carefully painting over her lack of status with his own regard for her. He had thought, right up until now, that that was enough.

Kazumi changed all that. Her vibrancy and strength spoke of themselves; she needed no one and nothing - not even Byakuya - to validate her. That confidence in and of itself was utterly intoxicating, and as his attraction and fascination to his new wife had slowly stirred the ashes of his heart to embers, he had stubornly and somewhat desperately retreated behind the simple fact that she was _not_ Hisana. Allowing himself to gravitate towards Kazumi would have been the ultimate betrayal of her memory.

And now, once again, Rukia had appeared out of nowhere, unbidden, and turned his every sense of duty and honor upside down with few simple words.

_"She would want the man she loved to be happy."_

Quietly, Byakuya began to curse every god he could name; watching his resolve crumble around him, he wasted a moment to loathe himself for being so weak. He had considered all of his happiness to have died with Hisana. Even the unadmitted joy of having Rukia in his family was mitigated by the bitterness of her resemblance to Hisana, a walking reminder of his duty to mourn. It had never occurred to him that a second chance to be anything other than miserable would present itself to him, endorsed by the very bearer of Hisana's image.

_"You have a new life...honor her memory by choosing to be happy in it..."_

Feeling sick to his stomach at the possibility of freedom from his self-imposed prison of guilt, Byakuya could not decide if he hated Rukia for offering him the key, or himself for wanting so damn much to make use of it.

"_Who's there?"_

Byakuya instantly fell silent at the query; finally taking in his surroundings, he nearly started cursing again. He was right outside his new wife's window on the far side of the garden, and his quiet self-scathing had obviously not been quiet enough. Either she had just gone to bed and heard him muttering, or she had also been awake with thoughts she couldn't quell. Either way, she now knew someone was here, and propriety demanded that he at least explain himself for lurking outside her window.

For a split second, he hesitated; but then, a motion on the other side of the thin curtains galvanized him into action. This was his only chance, to move before he could think. To be free, before his conscience could catch up to him...

Rukia's blessing had offered his wounded heart an olive branch, and damn all the gods, he was too weak to refuse it.

* * *

Kazumi blinked several times. "Wha-...ugnh?" Hardly an intelligent come-back, but her brain was kind of futzed out at the moment.

Softer, but just as resolute, Kuchiki Byakuya repeated his offer as he slowly started to cross the room.

"I have come to offer myself to you as a husband," he murmured, something molten in his already melodic baritone that set Kazumi's skin on fire. He kept walking towards her.

Frazzled, Kazumi tried to string a thought together. Something that did _not_ involve what she would like to do to this man...or what she would like _him_ to do to _her_... _Shut up!_ she hollared at the back of her head. _I need a moment here_...

She didn't get one. One minute Byakuya was striding towards her like a panther on the hunt, and the next he was before her, around her, the heady spiciness of his scent enveloping her senses and driving away all conscious thought. When an aristocratic hand cupped her chin and drew her mouth to his, she could have resisted about as easily as she could have moved Sougyokou Hill with her bare hands.

He claimed her mouth with practiced movements, gentle but insistent. Slowly, silken lips slid over hers, working softly for the few seconds it took her to melt into his arms. That was partly due to her knees giving out, but he held her to him as if she weighed nothing at all. His breath warmed her cheek, smelling faintly of cloves and green tea, and when his tongue slipped between her swollen lips to graze hers, an involuntary gasp mewled out of her. With a shift, Byakuya deepened the kiss, driving all thought out of her head as he groaned softly into her mouth. Something lurched, and as a wave of tight heat wove itself around her abdomen, Kazumi sank her fingers into midnight black hair and kissed him back with everything she had in her. Time stood still, engulfed in waves of warm, moist heat as the kiss danced on...

Suddenly she tilted; Kazumi had no idea when he'd picked her up or how he'd crossed the room with her legs wrapped around him - and when did _that_ happen!? - but just as her equilibrium began to hollar at her she felt the softness of her pallet cradling her. Sinking into its cushion as Byakuya lowered her to the bed, Kazumi heard sounds coming out of her, sounds of pleasure that she could barely remember if she'd ever made before. Her brain had been calmly dismissed and her long-abstinant body was working on overdrive.

Appearantly, so was Byakuya's; his broad, muscular frame sank down on top of her, enveloping her from head to toe even as a slight tension in his muscles held him up just a little bit, unconsciously levering himself so as not to crush her with his weight. Kazumi writhed at the delicacy, a primal part of her wanting him to press into her, to callenge her body to take him, to hold her own in delicious parry. Mind hazed, her hips moved on their own, rotating upwards towards his even as he hovered above her. Kazumi's legs were still wrapped around his waist, so it was easy for her to find the hardness beneath his robes and with a clench of her thighs, she ground herself against him.

The groan that tore out of Byakuya nearly drove her body over the edge as he shuddered, his own hips moving in reply. Kazumi's breath caught as the energy swelled between them; her hands quickly untangled themselves from the ebony locks pooling around her face and dropped down along his back to tug insistently at his robes. Byakuya grunted, his own hands moving, but as she had only been wrapped in a blanket his obstacle was considerably less encumbering; with a few deft pulls, the cloth fell open and Kazumi's hot skin was bared to Byakuya's ministrations.

The long kiss seemed like just the warm-up round; with intense deliberation, Byakuya's silken lips drifted down Kazumi's neck to trail a path of fiery kisses across her collarbone. Kazumi's own hands stilled with her breath as she rocked under the sensations being teased out of her. Moving slowly, Byakuya's hand drifted feather-light across her ribcage to graze a breast, cupping it softly. When his lips follwed, engulfing a nipple in a searing suckle, Kazumi's eyes flew open at the gasp that tore out of her throat, her whole body heaving at the jolt of lighting that skimmed along her spine to pool in the sweet tightness near her loins. Gasping, she could feel her fingertips reflexively sinking into muscular shoulders as her body surged against Byakuya's. He rocked back, his motions gaining feverish momentum as he laved at her nipple, his hardened manhood grinding insistently at her pelvis through the robes that still encumbered him. Completely engulfed in desire, Kazumi felt a dewy smile taking over her face as she looked down along the hard, impassioned body hovering above her own...

She froze. Kuchiki Byakuya, heir of one of the strongest Houses in Soul Society, catch of all catches, paramour to put David to shame and her legitimate husband besides, was ravaging her body with all the ardor of a besotted youth...

And his eyes were closed.

It was a simple thing, hardly uncommon. Men rarely had coherent thoughts during such a time, and many mental images at play to boot, all of it understandable and completely excusable. And it was an easy enough distinction to clear up; all Kazumi had to do was open up her reiatsu to his mind and take a peak. He certainly wouldn't notice if she just eased her mind as to who was on his at this particular moment...

But she couldn't. Not only would it be a violation of the highest order...but Kazumi realized with a lurch that she didn't _want_ to know.

She had a sudden, sickening feeling that another dark-haired beauty was on Byakuya's mind, and the rest of him was on auto-pilot. And while that was perfectly understandable - hadn't she just been thinking that his love for Hisana ran too deep, that winning his heart was a lost cause? - it was also besides the point. They were married; this is what married people did. Political or otherwise, there was no reason not to enjoy the benefits and reap the rewards of a properly consummated marriage.

Right?

"Stop."

For a moment, Kazumi couldn't believe she'd said it. For another heartbeat, she wished desperately that he hadn't heard it, that he would keep rocking her body with mind-numbing sensations...

But Byakuya heard, all right. His entire frame locked up, hips hard against hers and his lips an inch away from her ribcage. She could feel his breath on her hot skin, could feel him hold it as he forced himself to some semblance of control.

"What?"

Kazumi's own eyes nearly slid shut at the raw, horrified betrayal in the single word, hampered as his voice was by the ragged pants that still shook his body. For a moment they hovered in horrid tableau as Kazumi tried to find her voice.

"I don't want...to...not like this..." Her own words came in clipped, barely controlled tones, her body screaming at her to shut up to let it happen...but she was a Shihouin, and she knew a thing or two about resolve.

And she would not take this man until she knew that he was laying with _her_, and not a ghost. It might be unfair, but Kazumi was a woman dammit, and she was raised to too much pride to allow herself to be a proxy for a memory.

Byakuya's eyes opened but did not rise to her face. For a long moment he struggled to reign in his breath, shudders rippling up and down his frame as he fought to restrain the rest of himself. Without meeting her eyes, he suddenly launched himself off the bed and strode for the door.

"Wait-!" Kazumi threw a hand out at him, knowing it wouldn't stop him. _Godsdammit all give me a second to explain...!_

"I apologize, _wife_, for..." He paused at the door, his voice hitching. "Burdening you with such an odious duty."

With that, he was gone. Leaving Kazumi quite unsure if she should curse to peel the paint off the walls, or cry her damn fool heart out.


	9. Chapter 9 LEMON

_"You're joking."_

_Byakuya frowned at what clearly the wrong response to his offer. The nimble house servant slipped out of his hands, ducking away, but he pursued her down the servant's hall._

_"I do no such thing," he huffed, reaching out to snag an elbow. He swung violet eyes around to meet his. "I am completely in earnest."_

_"Well then, you're completely insane!" The feisty maid twisted, but he held her this time. "Nobles don't marry the help!"_

_Despite himself, Byakuya stiffened, radiating hurt. "You have not refused me before this." Hisana blushed, her own memories of the heated make-out sessions they had stolen together suffusing her face. "You wanted me then, knowing my station. You would have me judge you now, based on yours?" Byakuya drew back, dark eyes flashing passionately. "Is that truly all that you think you are? To_ me_? You have seen past_ my _rank and status; can you not do the same for yourself?"_

_Her eyes dropped as Hisana made a half-hearted attempt to hide her sudden flush of insecurity. "Your family will freak out."_

_"They will accept you as a daughter." Hisana snorted; Byakuya flared obstinately and with no small amount of naivete. "I am the Clan Head; they will do as they are told."_

_Eyes still downcast, Hisana squirmed for another reason. "The servants will hate me."_

_"Hate you?" Byakuya cocked his head slightly. "Would they not be happy to see one of their own rise?"_

_"It's not just that..." Hisana refused to say more, trying again to duck away from him. "Let me go - I need time to think about it."_

_"Time to think?" Byakuya stilled in a way that instantly stopped her writhing. "For months we have sought each other in every alcove and servant nook; was it all nothing to you? Was it all a game?" He glared. "Were you falling in love with me, or just trying to seduce the Heir of the Kuchiki Clan?"_

_Hisana eyes sparkled with a grim kind of triumph. "See? There - even_ you _question it. How much more will everyone else?" And then she was there in his arms, kissing his face to soften the blow, trying to draw him out off his stiff hurt. "No one will believe that people like us could truly fall in love - hell,_ I _can hardly believe it sometimes..."_

_"What matters only is what I think." Byakuya asserted, responding to her kisses. "I want you, Hisana. Marry me for love - you might be the only chance I ever have..."_

_This time, her lips stopped his. In the heat the followed, it was hours before he realized she'd said yes. _

* * *

Byakuya woke up the next morning in slow, miserable stages. The dreams had returned with feverish intensity, drugging him into a hazy, restless sleep that saw him waking much later than was his norm. The sun was already high, its strong beams streaming through the window and setting the room uncomfortably hot. Groaning, Byakuya forced his grainy eyes to open; the day must be faced, no matter how poorly he might be feeling.

Easier said than done; his body was stiff and achy with the tidal wave of need that had gone unrequited the night before. Long schooled to control and reservation, Byakuya was rather horrified to find that once awoken, his innate desires and exigencies were rather unwilling to be quelled. That such a thing was perfectly normal for a relatively young, healthy and married man cut no ice with Kuchiki Byakuya. He had long ago perfected the art of cool composure and would damn his soul before surrendering it, especially after last night's humiliation; he needed his armor now more than ever. So, ignoring the lateness of the morning, Byakuya forced himself into a meditative posture and breathed deeply and calmly, waiting for equilibrium to be restored to him.

A soft knock at his door interrupted him. Letting his eyes drift halfway open, Byakuya answered with some measure of poise restored. It was only a surface calm, but it would do.

"Yes?"

A manservant entered, eyes pinned to the ground and a silver tray proffered. "A message for you, my Lord Kuchiki..."

Without a word, Byakuya lifted a hand; the servant scuttled forward to put the tray within reach. With a flick of his wrist, Byakuya simultaneously accepted the note and dismissed the servant. Breaking the seal, his hooded eyes quickly skimmed the brief message.

_Your presence is requested at tea this evening_.

It was signed by his wife.

With a quiet curse - and a momentary wondering when he had developed this habit for epithets - Byakuya rose to face what could only turn out to be a disastrous day.

* * *

It was long after dark before Byakuya was able to respond to his summons. As much as he had hoped and prayed that his day full of meetings and squad demands would slow the passage of time down to a langorous tedium, it had brazenly sped on without his consent. The result was that he found himself standing outside the doorway to Kazumi's chambers without a single idea of what to say or how to handle the evening ahead of him.

At least he didn't have to wonder for too long.

"Please enter, Byakuya-sama."

The quiet voice drifting through the screens brought an instant flush to Byakuya's chiseled face, one he quickly supressed in a flash of chagrin. Kazumi might not be shinigami, but she clearly had some access to reiatsu and it would not have been difficult to sense his spirit power hovering in the hall. She was probably at least sensitive enough to know how long he had been standing there; a fitting enough beginning to what could only be an evening heaped with embarrassment. With a tiny shake, he told himself to add it to the list of things he had to apologize for, and studiously drew the screen door open.

Only one step into Kazumi's outer reception room saw him halting in surprise, lovely scents assaulting him. The room was a veritable greenhouse of plants, a tiny garden in its own right. Blossoms covered one entire wall, most of the plants unrecognizable to him, although he did notice the african violets of which Kazumi seemed to be so fond. As he drew further into the lush, fragrant room, he also discerned a crawling vine of jasmine, the delicious sent reminding him far too vividly of the way his wife had smelled in his arms...

The sharp, stinging reminder from the previous night was instantly sobering; Byakuya turned to leave the room with as much haste as possible while still maintaining his poise. Moving quickly through the outer chambers, he peered around for Kazumi, studiously ignoring the one room in which he had so assiduously disgraced himself just the night before. Trying to burn out the mental picture of his abominable behavior, he schooled himself to calm and passed along into the adjacent chamber that opened out into the garden complex.

He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Entering the small room, Byakuya could not keep an eyebrow from twitching in surprise as he drew to another halt. Tatami mats were laid out in formal arrangement around a hearth, where the utensils and apparatus for a formal chanoyu ceremony sat in obvious anticipation of his arrival. He hesitated; this was worse than he could imagine. Even the most simple of chanoyu would last the better part of an hour, and it had been his intention to deliver his apologies and retreat to his own rooms for a scathing night of gulity introspection with as much dignity as he could still claim. Even considering that chanoyu generally demanded little in the way of conversation, it was the last thing he could have hoped for. Before he could decide how to handle this new development, his wife entered the room.

Kazumi moved in the short, smooth steps demanded of her by the formal iromuji in which she was attired. The silk kimono gleamed a deep golden color that set off Kazumi's dark coloring and eyes beautifully, draping gracefully over her lithe figure and rustling softly with her movements. A crimson fan tucked into silver obi stood out in sharp contrast that somehow complimented the entire outfie. Her hair was swept up into a deceptively simple-looking arrangement held in place by masterfully placed and ornately decorated combs. Byakuya felt the moisture abandoning his tongue; the very picture of a noble princess, Kazumi was utterly stunning.

Camly, she met his dark eyes, gracefully gesturing for him to be seated. Byakuya, oddly enough, found a removed sort of comfort in the formality, even though his general trepidation over the evening remained pervasive. Taking his place, he let the scent of tea - matcha, complimented with spices - surround him as he tried to figure out how to begin the evening's discourse with the least amount of awkwardness. Engaging in the graceful and prescribed movements of the tea ceremony, Kazumi reached for the chashaku and relieved him of the burden.

"Thank you for coming this evening, Lord Husband," she murmured, the docility of the tone surprising Byakuya. "I'm sure you would not argue with the fact that there is much to clarify between us. I know chanoyu does not allow for much conversation, but I was hoping we might be able to speak openly." Kazumi's eyes remained properly lowered as she carefully spooned the tea leaves into the waiting pot, giving Byakuya time to find her frankness disconcerting.

"Speak...on what?" It was not exactly dignified, but it was the best Byakuya could do at the moment. This woman unsettled him in ways he could not begin to fathom.

Slanted, impossibly dark eyes met his. "Oh, I'm sure we could think of something." Lips quirked upwards in wry humor before Kazumi relented with a sigh. "You came to my room last night with an offer, one I did not have the opportunity to understand fully. You offered me your protection."

Byakuya started. That was not the point on which he would have expected her to seek clarification. "Yes," he said slowly; he had the overwhelming feeling that he was treading on quicksand.

Pausing while she waited for the leaves to steep, Kazumi met his eyes again, earnestness pooling deep in the dark orbs. "I would like to know what you meant by that."

Byakuya watched her for a long moment, marshalling his response. "It is largely my refusal to publically claim you as my wife that has allowed the attempts on your life to take place." It was the safest answer, and truthful besides; the rest was too embarrasing to touch on.

Kazumi seemed to consider that, taking a moment to check on the tea. "If that was your only intention, then claiming my publically would be sufficient to ensure my safety." Dark, slanted eyes met his through the steam floating lazily between them as the chawan was stirred; this wife of his was not wont to let him off so easily.

Byakuya shifted until his gaze locked on the simple, graceful movements of Kazumi's hands; it was vastly preferrable to meeting her eyes. "It would not be honorable to claim you publically without doing so privately," he stated quietly. "It would be...dishonest."

Kazumi carefully and with proper ceremony began to pour the tea. "I thought it might be something like that," she murmured. Little else was said until both bowls were filled and lifted to lips. Byakuya sipped his own; it was steeped to perfection. Glancing up at his wife, he was surprised to find her blushing faintly.

Without looking up from her tea bowl, Kazumi spoke with clear determination. "I wish to formally apologize for humiliating you last night."

She then went on to sip serenely, allowing Bkyauka the chance to start at her bluntness and fight a blush of his own. He nonetheless hurried to correct her.

"Nonesense," he grated stiffly. "It is I who should apologize..."

Kazumi cut him off, her eyes flashing. "For what, Byakuya-sama? For wanting to lay with your own wife?"

Byakuya very nearly swallowed his own tongue. Heat rushed to his face, as well as - to his intense mortification - somewhere considerably lower. He floundered for a moment, trying to find his voice, but Kazumi just barrelled on.

"Let me guess," she snapped, her composure slipping further by the word. "You've spent the better part of the day flaying yourself for forcing your ardor on a grieving widow? For letting your passions run rampant, when I couldn't possibly want the same in return??" Her eyebrow twitched as Byakuya's chest seized with a painful twinge; _how the hell did she know that??_

Finally - _finally_ - he found his voice, more from anger than anything else. "Your husband was killed in the line of duty barely months ago...it was not right to...for me to..." Godsdammit all, why couldn't he speak!?

Kazumi actually bared teeth. "And what do you know of me, or of my late husband?" Black eyes flashed, cold as death. "You think everyone is madly in love and goes on grieving forever? You think that your own pain translates exactly the same to everyone else??" Her jaw clacked shut, blush deepening, as she returned to the smooth and controlled movements of the tea ceremony. It was at distinct odds with the fervor of her words, which tumbled ruthlessly through Byakuya's mind.

With a wrench, he saw Kazumi's point. He knew next to nothing of this woman, no matter their matrimonial status. It was unseemly to project his own reservations onto someone he barely knew. A long silence followed, filled with the rote demands of chanoyu, before Byakuya spoke softly.

"Tell me of him." Black eyes met deepest blue, softening slightly in earnestness. "If you will."

Kazumi stared back, considering. When she finally spoke, Byakuya found himself listening carefully.

"Jun was a good husband," Kazumi said quietly. "I did not love him, and he knew it, but he was a good man and over the years there was a certain regard that sprang up between us. I...respected him, although I know that he felt more for me than I did for him." That admission seemed to cut deeply; Kazumi's cheeks darkened. "He was good to my son, while he lived. I was always grateful for that."

"Why would he not be good to his own son?" The words poured out before Byakuya could couch them appropriately.

"Jun was not Hajime's father," Kazumi all but whispered, meeting his eyes carefully. "His father was a Rukongian blacksmith, whom I was forbidden to see."

Byakuya felt his left eye twitch. "You were married off to someone within Clan, then. To save face." It wasn't a question.

Kazumi's nod confirmed it. "Yuuma and I loved passionately, if briefly. My love for him was intense, but I was young and naiive. I thought, since I was a lower member of the Clan, that I would be allowed to love whom I chose." Her eyes tightened in old, tired sorrow. "It was only a few years into our affair that I found I was with child. And the moment I displayed the genetic trait for true-births that my mother carried, my value to the Clan increased considerably." Kazumi smiled sadly. "It was not long before Yuuma conveniently disappeared. I was remarried within weeks, before Yuuma and my love-child was even born."

Byakuya felt a growl in the back of his throat, but stubbornly refused to let it be voiced. Kazumi seemed to hear it anyway, her smile softening.

"It was a long time ago," she conceded. "I've come to understand the actions of the Shihouin Clan, even if they still cut. And while my son lived, the loss of my love was tolerable." Shadows crossed her pale face. "Losing Hajime was the hardest. I did not know pain like that existed, until he breathed his last in my arms."

For a moment, Byakuya too felt breathless, echoes of a shared nightmare pulling at his memory. "I am sorry."

Kazumi seemed to shake herself slightly, wan face regaining some of its animation as she smiled gently. "It, also, was a long time ago. So, while losing Jun in the War was not the most pleasant thing to have happened to me, neither was it the worst." Her delicate features firmed, her eyes meeting his with determination. "I swore I would never marry again without love."

"And then you married me." Even to his own ears, Byakuya's voice was sharp enough to cut steel. For a moment, the familiar tidal wave of self-recrimination threatened to overwhelm him...

But a small hand on his own drew Byakuya out of himself. Kazumi looked grim.

"I have another confession to make," she whispered. "It is my fault that you lived."

Byakuya felt his eyebrows draw together, but Kazumi continued.

"You were dying, and your councillors were desperate..." Loudly, she swallowed, refusing to meet his eyes. "I did not wish to refuse my duty, so I accepted an engagment of sorts...and then you spoke in your delirium, binding us..." Black eyes snapped up to meet his. "It was good enough for your concilors, but not for me."

Byakuya felt a wave of befuddlement; none of this admission made sense. Kazumi blushed deeper, her eyes dropping to the floor.

"I told you, I have...some measure of healing ability. I..." She took a deep breath. "I examined you, and saw someone worth keeping alive. Someone I could...possibly learn to love, given the chance. Someone who wanted to live..." A shudder ran through her. "I anchored you, and gave you a chance to survive. You did the rest, recovering against all odds...but at the beginning at least, it was my interference that kept you from slipping away." Her voice trailed off into a whisper, her entire posture bowed in shame. She seemed unable to stop trembling.

For half a lifetime, Byakuya stared at her, his brain frozen. When his hand reached out, gently, to touch her chin and tilt her face to meet his, he barely knew what he was doing.

"Why did you save me?"

She swallowed, looking haunted. "You wanted me to."

Byakuya jerked his hand back, the words searing him. Something in his chest felt tight, as if every vein in his body was on fire. "How can you say these things to me?" he grated, reeling. The world seemed to turn on its end. "What do you know of what I want?"

Kazumi's eyes burned as she leaned towards him in challenge. "I know that you will always love Hisana," she hissed, her voice heated if bearing an odd sort of concession. "You wanted to live to keep her memory alive."

This was madness; to discuss such things with this infuriating woman... "And you would accept such from a husband?" Byakuya clipped in reply, his voice colder than he could ever remember it being.

Kazumi seemed unfazed, the heat in her eyes meeting the ice in his tone. "You would ask me to forget my son?"

"Of course not," Byakuya snapped without thinking. Inexplicably, Kazumi's eyes lit in a kind of grim victory. All kinds of lights started to go off in his head...

"And so, here we are,"Kazumi murmured quietly, her eyes molten but dead earnest. "Two people who have loved and lost, and who have every reason never to risk dropping their guard again." Byakuya felt his breath catch with desire at the utter earnesty in her eyes. "I don't ask that you forget your dead wife, as long as you concede that nothing will ever replace my dead child." Her head tilted, eyes glimmering with challenge. "So now, how are we going to choose? To be miserable forever? Or to accept the possibility of a second chance..."

Byakuya crossed the room without thought, the table flying out of the way as he grabbed Kazumi and threw her against the wall, pinning her there. He couldn't decide if he wanted to kill her or ravage her senseless...

"You ask too much of me." The words nearly tore his throat as Byakuya spoke them, his mouth drying with desire at the heated, fervid look in her eyes.

"Yes," Kazumi breathed. "I do not ask that you stop loving your dead wife. But I do ask, that if you wish to be with me," she trailed off; with a sudden hitch, she wrapped herself around him, lifting herself into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. "That you be with _me_." Breath hot on his throat, she trailed a few blazing kisses along his jaw. "Is it so much to ask that you consider the possibility of loving again...?"

Byakuya groaned, his eyes sliding shut, agony mingled with desire. "This can only cause pain for both of us..." he gasped, even as his fingers started to trace the outline of her jaw...

"Are you hurting any less, having chosen never to love again?" Kazumi pulled back, forcing his face to meet hers. Black eyes bore into him. "Life will hurt you, Kuchiki Bykuya, whether you stand behind your walls or before them. Even Senbonzakura cannot change that. That much is in evitable."

_Love. Pain. So goddamned inevitable_...

Without another word, Byakuya reached up and tore the kimono his wife wore in two. It was too much, it was all _too much_...pain and desire and fear and lust all mingled together, sinking him into a deep passion that he did not recognize as anything but a blind sort of madness. The feral growl that emitted from Kazumi only egged him on; feverishly, Byakuya tried to consume every inch of soft, fragrant skin he could find, hands and lips and tongue devouring every tasty morsel within reach. Kazumi's supple body writhed beneath his touch, responding to the heat of the moment with a passion that blinded his every objection. The strength and eagerness of her body, entwined ruthlessly with his, nearly drove Byakuya bezerk. Not only was he far too long without physical amelioration, but he was utterly intoxicated by the fierceness of her reaction. Hisana had been a willing and generous lover, but not a challenging one...

Kazumi was the spectral opposite, drawing every ounce of attention and passion out of Byakuya, insisting on a defiant kind of absorption that was beyond reason or resistance. His mouth devoured hers, even as she gave back as good as she got, challenging him to drink deeper, tongue flickering like a wild animal. The silken encumbrance of her clothing seemed to shed itself, gleaming fabric slithering to the floor even as Kazumi's strong hands tugged insistently at his robes. This time, Byakuya was far too feverish to even think of resisting; with a growl, he tore off his hakima even as Kazumi's hands fumbled at the obi holding everything together. Senbonzakura clattered to the floor with nary a protest as the final barriers between hot flesh were ruthlessly discarded...

Sliding into the tight, wet heat of his wife nearly cost Byakuya his sanity. With a rough gasp, he thrust himself deeply, again and again, Kazumi's frantic cries tearing through his mind and shredding whatever lucidity he had left. Moments or minutes or hours vanished into the dark, searing claiming of flesh, senses and sanity spiraling downward in a relentless, furious rush of intoxicating luxury...

They came together, white oblivion searing the senses down to the bone, their cries mingling and rendering the air with furious, bacchic intensity. Byakuya felt his eyes fly open at the moment of fruition, the culmination of years of self-denial demanding that he drink in the deepest of luxuries with full, mind-shattering awareness. Black eyes met his from only a breath away, the heat and intensity of the gaze throwing him over the brink, as her name ripped itself from his lips...

_"Kazumi..!"_

Black eyes slid shut in ecstasy as she came around him, shuddering with an exultant cry that threatened to brand Byakuya's soul. Clutching him frantically, Kazumi whispered his name over and over again as he thrust himself with slow, absolute movements into her tight heat, his breath tearing at his throat as the tingling aftershocks of his orgasm tremored through him. The next eternity was eclipsed with burning, slowing gasps as together they regained their senses, black eyes staring intently into deepest blue.

It was forever before he remembered how to speak. "Wife..." Byakuya gasped, marvelling at the roguish, foreign sound that his own mouth emitted.

"Shh," Kazumi shushed, lips hot and hard against his. She seemed to be smiling. "You said my name..."

The air rushed out of Byakuya's lungs in a woosh as he crushed the lithe, supple body against his. "Kazumi, I-"

"Shut up," she murmured, claiming his mouth again insistently. "Say my name, and take me again..."


	10. Chapter 10

With its customary splendor, the sun rose over the Kuchiki mansion.

The sakura garden responded in ways ordinary senses were too blunt to appreciate. The subtle lightening of the sky, the color alterations at play, the way the breeze drifted gently, the cool hints of night still drifting away. The trees transformed silently from dark, amorphous shapes lost in shadow to sprawling sentinels, their elegant forms greeting the morning with a gentle rustling. The flowers opened in a silent crescendo to the faint early rays of sun. Birdsong was at its brightest and liveliest, greeting the day with a symphony of delight.

Sitting silently amidst the dawning flora and fauna, Byakuya drank in the morning splendor with a quiet appreciation. While he had always been an early riser, it had been decades since he had done so in the lush garden. Before he was married, he was too young and brash to enjoy the simple pleasure of dawn. Since Hisana's death, even such simple revelry had been tainted for him. Now, though, he found he relished this chance to start his day, enveloped by wakening nature.

In fact, he was relishing quite a few things lately. More than a year had passed since the War, since he had woken and found himself so unexpectedly married. The introduction of Kazumi into his life had changed things for him, indelibly. The charged energy between him and his un-asked-for wife had inevitably erupted, giving way to the maelstrom of roiling emotions and passions that – for him at least – had lain dormant for far too long. No matter the reasons for it, since the day of their consummation the incendiary effect Kazumi had on him had not waned. Though the fires may have been stoked by his initial frustration, Byakuya found a smoldering burn lingering in his soul, the intensity of his attraction to her simmering in a way that was intoxicating.

Even within his own mind, Byakuya was forced to admit to himself that life had improved. While he had worn his guilt and loneliness like a familiar cloak, he found the attraction to such miserl paled with some distance. It was...pleasant, to end the day with companionship. Aside from their vigorous and incendiary intimacies, he found in Kazumi a sharp mind and scathing wit, humor delectably combined with intelligence. Often they would spend half the evening exchanging ideas and conversation, and more than once Kazumi's singular insight had proven invaluable to the running of Clan and Squad. How she could so easily cut to the heart of matters, especially when it came to interpersonal relationships and psychology, Byakuya could almost envy. He had long ago realized that he had no talent for handling people. Kazumi seemed the exact opposite, effortlessly navigating the vestiges of mind and heart the way he danced the forms with Senbonzakura. Her grasp of clan politics and human motives were equally astounding, and he found he could lean on her for advice. He had never cared for placating Clan or weaving his way through their constant prevarications; he preferred to slice his way through their objections when he could not avoid them outright. With Kazumi at his side, Byakuya found he could achieve the same results with finesse, gliding through the delicate machinations of politics with a practiced ease that came naturally, with Kazumi's guidance.

And that was not all; after a lifetime of feeling like family was more a burden than blessing, Byakuya found himself the beneficiary of a familial unit that was far closer to those he heard people talk about, people who acted as if family were something other than a curse. Kazumi and Rukia had taken to each other like butter to bread, and together they mothered him to within an inch of his life. Byakuya was loathe to let on that he thoroughly enjoyed it, his own mother having died giving birth to him. Between the two of them, Byakuya's life more and more was inundated with annoying and yet intoxicating femininity. On several occasions, seeking out the company of his wife late in the evenings, he stumbled across a girly giggle-fest going on right under his roof. Though he was known to storm in and disrupt them with a curt demanding of his spouse back, he would never tell either of the women that he would first stand outside the shoji screens and listen for a while. Nor would he admit to the smile that played across his features while he did so.

Now, sitting in the splendor of the wakening garden, Byakuya could admit to himself that it delighted him that his wife and sister were finding such closeness. Silently, for using words was not Senbonzakura's way, his zanpaktou encouraged the feeling within him, of family and all the warm and delicious implications available to people who were not raised among nobility. Byakuya cherished the feeling for a moment before ruthlessly dispelling it. Also without words, he tossed at his sword the intense impression that it was being most impertinent. Senbonzakura did not respond, but as it settled back it emitted the distinct impression that it was amused.

_Enough foolishness_. Dawn had fully broken, the golden sun extricating itself gracefully form the horizon, and it was time for Byakuya to extricate himself from the garden. As he walked in his usual stately manner back to his rooms, he relished the new plantings and additions scattered with an exquisite eye for balance and serenity amidst the original plantings. Kazumi's African violets flourished in the verdant shadows cast by the sprawling sakuras, and Byakuya was pleased that he had allowed her to plant them.

Reaching his rooms, Byakuya did not bother looking for his wife. Kazumi was an even earlier riser than he was, and she insisted on taking her morning yoga by herself in her private meditation room. She maintained that the solitude allowed her center and a fresh start on the day; her assertion made sense, and was at least half the reason Byakuya had reinstated his own habit of watching sunrise in the garden. By this time of morning, however, she would be refreshed and already away from the manse; not long after their marriage had consummated itself, Kazumi had firmly insisted that she was not a dandy to sit around a manse and pleasure her Lord Husband. She had returned to her healing work, and while she did not share the details of her work or her patients, Byakuya was pleased that she had a life and a passion that she would not abandon.

A small, young part of him wanted her all to himself, grated at sharing her with something from which he was so assiduously excluded. But Byakuya had matured enough over the years of heartache, loss and duty to realize that loving someone meant you did not smother them. It helped that, whatever she had been among the Shihouins, Kazumi seemed to understand that spending her days at her old clan might not be prudent and instead met her patients regularly at Fourth squad. It was important for Kuchiki solidarity for her work to be carried out on neutral ground.

Still, Byakuya had a relatively undemanding day before him. The regular Captain's meeting was not scheduled until next week, his paperwork was unaccountably light, and the Clan was being unusually quiet lately. All in all, Byakuya figured he could spare a few hours in the afternoon. Perhaps he could meet Kazumi at Fourth and share a mid-day meal with her. He resolved to make it happen.

Indeed the morning passed swiftly; paperwork collated and marked so that they needed little more than a glance and signature before they were done. He managed to spend a good hour or so unsettling his vice, who had proceeded to find a generally happy and content Byakuya to be most disturbing. It took little more than the merest hint of a grin to set the red-haired man stammering, and just the suggestion of a joke had him all but beside himself. Still, delightful though such distractions were, Kazumi was far more attractive and before noon had settled itself upon Sereitei, the Kuchiki heir made his way towards Fourth squad in search of his desired lunch companion.

Fourth was quite a maze despite its pristine layout, and even Byakuya was unwilling to poke around another captain's squad without assistance. It was unseemly. Luckily, Kazumi found him not long after he arrived; flush-faced, she accosted him not far past the entrance chambers.

"Kuchiki-sama," she greeted formally, a sparkle of delight and something close to mischief sparkling in her eye. She seemed slightly out of breath. "To what do I owe this honor?"

Byakuya very nearly smiled back, and in public no less. He refused to acknowledge what that said about him; gods, this woman made him forget propriety at all turns. "I wished to seek your company for midday meal, if it pleases you, Wife." At least his request was stated properly enough. People would start to talk if he continued to disgrace himself in public. "Are you able to spare a few hours from your work?"

Kazumi nodded thoughtfully, brow twitching for a moment before it cleared. "I can arrange for that. If you will allow me to delegate my duties? It will only take me a few moments..." At Byakuya's nod of assent, she smiled again. "If you wish to wait in the lounge, I will join you there as soon as I have made arrangements."

"Very well." He could not kiss her in the middle of Fourth squad, so Byakuya forbore dropping an affectionate peck on her brow and turned towards the reception area that overlooked the serenity garden at the heart of Fourth squad. He crossed the room and stood by the window, appreciating the subtleties and intricacies of the incredibly well-laid garden beyond. Designed to be soothing and calming, it was still dynamic enough to inspire, instead of soothing the viewer into sedation. Just the right tone to strike in a place of healing. Byakuya silently commended the design and reminded himself once again to ask Unohana who had done the architecture. It made his own splendid sakura garden look like a wildforest.

A sound behind him made Byakuya turn, but it was not his wife that hovered at the entrance. A lower member of Fourth had made to enter the room, halting at the doorway upon observing its inhabitant. Byakuya cocked an eyebrow as the young woman bowed gracefully and spoke in an appropriately subdued tone.

"Kuchiki-taicho? Forgive me, I bring a message from your wife. It has taken longer than she anticipated for her to extricate herself from her duties. Would you desire to continue waiting for Kazumi-sama, or if you prefer, she could meet you at a place of dining?"

"I will wait." Byakuya noted the slight flush that infused the young woman's face at the mention of his wife's name, as well as the less-than-formal address. "You know my wife?" Perhaps this child knew of Kazumi's work...?

The girl bowed again, flushing with delight. "Oh yes, Kuchiki-taicho. Kazumi-sama has been working here for decades, and has done such good as I cannot tell. It is thanks to her that my grandmother even recognizes me!" Bubbling with glee, the girl impudently met his gaze.

Bya found it almost irritating; was everyone but himself to know of his wife's accomplishments? "Yes? How so?" Half a lifetime ago, he would have been astounded by his largesse in seeking to make conversation with such a lowly creature, but his curiosity took over and to hell with propriety. It annoyed him that this child knew more of his wife than he did.

The young Fourth member swallowed loudly, seeming to realize she was chit-chatting with one of the mightiest and most reticent beings in Soul Society. Still, she raised her chin and continued bravely. "My grandmother is an amazing person, but her mind wandered. Everyone else gave up on her, even Unohana-taicho did all she could, and well..." She trailed off, looking abashed and pleased. "One visit from Kazumi-san and now she's much better. Grandma even remembers me when I go to visit, and the neighbors say she's like her old self again!"

"What did your grandmother suffer?" It was more than polite small talk, Byakua told himself resolutely; _what illness could Kazumi heal that Retsu-sama could not...?_

"Oh, nothing much. She had a stroke. Unohana-taicho healed the damage to her brain, but only Kazumi-san could do the rest, of course." The girl bowed politely.

"The rest?" If Byakuya's interest was not piqued before, then it was now.

The girl suddenly seemed to realize where the conversation had gone. Her face paled and suddenly, words came with difficulty. "Uhm...well, you know. The rest. Personality and stuff."

_Interesting_. That tracked with Kazumi's singular insight into human psyche. Something nagged at Byakuya; somewhere in the back of his mind, something screamed for his attention. He could not grab hold of it... Instead, he turned his attention on the wilting Fourth squad member.

"Explain to me, child...what _exactly_ it is that my wife does..."

* * *

It was very nearly tea time by the time Kazumi finally found Byakuya. He waited with some interest as she meandered through the manse looking for him; she had told him, once, that she could not really sense reiatsu unless she was in the same room with a soul. It appeared that much, at least, she had not been lying about. He waited with infinite patience while she searched the suite, refusing to answer her inquisitive calls. When she finally entered the room in which he waited, she stopped cold at the expression on his face.

"Byakuya," she said slowly, caution and something else flittering across her face. "What happened? I cleared my schedule, but by the time I went back to reception you were gone." He didn't answer; her face darkened. Byakuya entertained the idea that it was dread.

Well it should be, with what he knew. "Something came up," he stated coldly, his voice like ice. He watched her take a step closer, pretense rapidly draining from her face. Whatever she was sensing from him was getting her guard up, and with damn good reason. When she spoke again, it was with a stony tension that matched his own.

"What happened." It was barely a question this time. Kazumi stared at him, her black eyes hard. If she knew what was going on, she was at least brave enough to face him.

That almost amounted to something. Byakuya, however, was in no mood to be generous. He took a step forward, ominously. His voice, when it came, was dangerous. "Surely someone of your _abilities_ does not need to ask." The flatness in his voice frightened even him. "Why not just read my mind and find out for yourself?"

Kazumi shuddered like a sapling in a strong wind. It was a long time before she spoke, but when she did her face was ashen.

"It doesn't work like that," she whispered. It was all the confirmation Byakuya needed.

"Then tell me, _wife_," he spat, face like marble. "What is it like, exactly?"

She drew a ragged breath. A spark of fire kept Kazumi's back straight, her gaze shrewd. "What have you been told?" Shadows ringed her enormous eyes, but Byakuya could not have cared less.

"The truth, finally." Byakuya grated hoarsely. "That your 'healing' powers of which you are so secretive is nothing more than the ability to reach inside a mind a twist it any way you like." It was Byakuya's turn to tremble, fury blazing along his limbs. "Broken minds, shattered by loss and horror. Weak, traumatized, _pitiful_ souls who forsake reason under the stress of trauma. _Minds like mine, _apparently_._" Kazumi opened her mouth to speak; Byakuya did not give her the chance. "You Shiouin _whore_. How you and your Clan must have celebrated this victory. You have been Conditioning me to love you from the first moment, have you not?" She started to shake her head; Byakuya roared. "_Admit it!_" He stalked closer, murderous. "Admit that you have bent and twisted me to your will. Admit that you have touched my mind and altered my resolve. Admit that you made me your willing partner by using your disgusting manipulations." Tears littered Kazumi's eyes; Byakuya saw none of them. "Admit that you made me love you!"

Her head was still shaking, the tears raining from her face like slivery rain; Byakuya found it hard to breathe. Something twisted hotly, deep within his chest, and he found he could not tolerate looking at Kazumi for a second longer. Turning on his heel, he left the room, his final words echoing off the walls.

"You will be gone by midnight; the Shiouin clan can have their filthy seductress back."

The door closed behind him with stark finality.

* * *

_Like Hell_.

Whirling, Kazumi turned and ripped the shoji screen back, following the cold and rigid form of Byakuya into the main room.

"You stop right there, godsdammit!" An inexplicable rage surged up from the pit of her stomach; this moment was inevitable, but the gods could go fuck themselves if they thought Kuchiki Byakuya was going to get the last word in. "Stop!" Byakuya kept walking. Kazumi tasted bile in the back of her throat. "Do you think I couldn't _make_ you stop, if I wanted to!?"

That made him halt in his tracks; her gorgeous, beloved husband whirled around to glare murder at her.

She glared back. "I could reach inside you right now, erase your memories. I could turn you into a fucking lapdog if I wanted to. _I have not._ I _will_ not, not ever." A silent pause while the energy seethed between them. "Ask me why."

"I do not care." Byakuya turned to leave again.

Kazumi grated at his back. "Yes, you do. If you did not care, you would not hate me at this moment." Again, Byakuya stopped. He did not turn. Kazumi took what she could get, speaking to his rigid back. "You think I can read minds? Alter emotions? Kuchiki Byakuya - _that's not the half of it_." Trembling with her own rage, Kazumi yelled on. "I can't just alter emotions; I can play them like a harp. That's my talent, and I was fucking born with it and can't do a godsdamned thing about it." Kazumi didn't even recognize her own voice. "I cannot change my power, but I can choose when I use it, and when I do not."

Finally Byakuya turned, the cold, hard look in his eyes searing Kazumi's soul. "And you wish me to believe that you have not used it on me. Not ever." Dark, midnight pools demanded truth.

Kazumi swallowed, hard. Truth she would give him, whether he liked it or not. "Once, with your permission. When you asked me to soothe your pain, and keep your dreams at bay." He stirred, but before he could get too angry she dropped the true bombshell. "And once without your consent. That could not be avoided."

Byakuya took a step closer to her, teeth bared; absently, Kazumi wondered if she would live past the next few moments. For a long moment, Byakuya's lethal fury pinned her before he found his voice.

"When?"

Kazumi worked her tongue for a moment, trying to find enough moisture to produce intelligible words. "When you were dying." It was barely a whisper. Byakuya said nothing, his eyes flashing. Kazumi had nothing to lose by continuing. "I told you, Byakuya-sama, that I...saw in you someone worth saving. Someone I could learn to love..." _Please gods, let him see I'm not lying. He doesn't have to believe it yet, but let him see._..

Byakuya snapped at her, his tone ragged. "Exactly what did you see, Kazumi?" He grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly against him. It hurt. "Tell me! _How much did you see?_"

"Everything." It was barely a breath; Kazumi found she could not meet the eyes she loved so much. Her soul howled. "_I saw everything_. Your father. Yoruichi. Hisana." The last word was barely audibly; Kazumi found herself trembling. "Ichigo, and Rukia, even. _Everything_." Finally, her eyes dragged up to meet his. "I know more about you than you do of yourself, Kuchiki Byakuya."

The silence was terrible. Kazumi tried not to let the despair and terror overwhelm her; she had known this moment would come. All she had to do was survive it...

It did not keep her heart from breaking at the look in Byakuya's eyes when he finally released her. Cold, almost glazed over, as if he were looking at a total stranger. And a lethal one at that. When he finally spoke, Kazumi felt something within her break.

"Kazumi, if you do not leave my house this minute, I will kill you."


	11. Chapter 11

Quietly swearing under her breath, Rukia slipped through the Kuchiki manse to the sakura garden, on a far less pleasant task than the last time she had been there. By the time she'd flitted through the clan mansion, she hadn't needed to see the servants, cowering in corners and being in all ways as unobtrusive as possible, to know that something terrible had happened. In all her years in Sereitei as an adopted member of the Kuchiki clan, never had she sensed such a turmoil in her brother's reiatsu. Following the enraged howling of Senbonzakura, she darted into the private garden, fingering her own zanpaktou. She wondered, for the briefest of seconds, if it was entirely wise to invade the personal space of a very upset and thoroughly lethal zanpaktou; but as it was Byakuya, not even Senbonzakura could have stopped her from going to his aid.

One step in, and Rukia knew she was in trouble. Shredded foliage ground wetly underfoot; while the trees still stood untouched, almost everything else in the garden looked like it had been attacked by a tornado. Cautiously, Rukia drifted forward; rounding a particularly large sakura, she finally laid eyes on Byakuya.

He stood, back to her, unmoving. Around him, the pink slivers of his zanpaktou wended and flitted through the air, methodically slicing every single plant it touched into shreds. The smell of violets hung thick in the air.

Rukia forgot everything else. "What the hell are you doing!?"

He must have sensed her approach; when Byakuya turned to regard her, it was without surprise. "It is none of you business. Rukia, leave at once."

"I will not!" Rukia hollered back, aghast at her own impropriety but far too rattled to stop herself. "What happened? Where is Kazumi? Why are you killing all her plants...?"

Without moving a muscle, Byakuya's eyes turned into something so seethingly terrible that it stopped Rukia mid-sentence. "You will not mention that name to me again. Ever." Behind him, Senbonzakura immolated another section of underbrush. "The woman of whom you speak is no longer relevant; she has gone, and will not return." With long-practiced restraint, Byakuya turned back to his work. "Leave me alone now, Rukia."

Rukia never remembered moving; suddenly, she had Byakuya's sleeve balled in her fist and was whirling him around to face her. The both seemed shocked that she was able to, fury lending her strength. "What do you mean, she's gone!? Nii-sama – _what did you do!?_"

Byakuya outright glared at her, his outward composure strained in light of her imposition. "Do not question me, Rukia. The matter is none of your business..."

"Like hell it isn't!" Rukia flared; something in the back of her head screamed at her for her intolerable rudeness; something else emerged first, and suddenly everything snapped into clarity. "Kazumi told you, didn't she? About what she can do?"

Byakuya froze; his gaze flattened, somehow even more terrifying an expression than the raw anger they'd just been flaring. Staring at Rukia with hooded eyes, he spoke quietly. "You knew."

"Of course I knew," Rukia snapped. "Why do you think we didn't want to tell you?" Pointedly, she glanced around the garden and the destruction. "We had the craziest idea that you might react badly."

"Fear is a poor excuse to hide the truth," Byakuya returned bluntly.

"We weren't afraid of you," Rukia shot back. "_She_ was trying make sure you wouldn't get hurt."

A black eyebrow cocked in disbelief. "From what I have been told, by her own lips, she can manipulate people at will. I cannot be expected to believe that she had any true regard for me."

Rukia snorted. "You've been sleeping with her for months, and you're worried she doesn't have feelings for you?"

Byakuya actually bared his teeth in gall. "_Silence_, Rukia! I have no reason to believe _that woman_ was anything other than a plant from her Clan, come here with every intention to use me to her advantage. You expect me to believe that any of her apparent feelings for me were real?"

Rukia leapt at the opening. "You expect _her_ to believe any of _your_ feelings were real!?" Byakuya stilled in shock; Rukia pressed her point. "You're so afraid that she violated your will, that she might have _made_ you love her. As if _any_ woman would want to be loved by someone who was forced to it!"

That shot told; Byakuya actually took a step back, regarding her with a blandness that bespoke of utter shock. Stubbornness set in around midnight eyes. "Surely, her intentions had nothing to do with loving me..."

"_Bullshit_." Rukia had no idea what had gotten into her; her brother's eyes actually flickered open in shock. "She told you that she searched your mind, when you were dying?" The way Byakuya's eyes flattened was enough confirmation; Rukia barreled on. "Did she tell you that she didn't _mean_ to; that she'd never touched a mind like yours, of a spirit being with so much power? That, dying, your spirit grabbed hold of her lifeline and bombarded her with everything you'd ever experienced?" Byakuya's eyes widened; Rukia's narrowed. "You didn't even give her the chance to explain, did you? She didn't _mean_ to see everything. She didn't want to! After what she's been through, you think she would ever want to love again??" Rukia broke off, panting wildly. Fury and horror battled for dominance, and for a moment, she wondered if she had pushed her brother too far.

For a long time, Byakuya stared silently at her. When he finally spoke, he sounded tired. "Rukia..." He shook his head, sadly. "You ask too much. How can I ever know that she did manipulate me into becoming her ideal husband?"

_Well, I guess it's all or nothing._ Rukia sucked in breath. "Because she tried it once before. Her Shihouin husband." Rukia gulped at the expression on her brother's face. "She told me that after Yuuma vanished, she hated being married to a stranger. So she..._changed_ Jun. She was young, and angry and bitterly heartbroken, and angry at her Clan." The maelstrom of fury in Byakuya's eyes made every word harder than the last, but Rukia forced herself to continue her defense. "She never stopped regretting it. Years later, she tried to change him back, tried to fix what she had done, but the changes ran too deep. It _devastated_ her. I saw her eyes when she told me this, Brother. She was not lying." Rukia's cheeks flushed, remembering Kazumi's confidence. "I don't know much of what happened after, but I know that she would never have married you without the hope for love. For _true_ love, untampered. I swear it on my soul, Nii-sama. If Kazumi was here, she would too." The spark of her rebellion finally spent, Rukia dropped to her knees, formally prostrating herself before her Clan head. Trembling, she waited.

It was a very long time before Byakuya found his voice. "None of what you say makes sense..." He broke off, suddenly and uncharacteristically uncertain. Hooded eyes seemed far away; whatever he was remembering gave him pause. Behind, in the shadows of the garden, Senbonzakura hovered. Waiting. "Perhaps I was hasty in sending her away. If there is more to the picture, that I do not yet know..." He trailed off, sounding about as embarrassed as a Kuchiki was capable of. "There are points that must be clarified, questions..." Pulling himself together, Byakuya reluctantly met Rukia's eyes with unspoken entreaty.

Rukia wanted to huff and cross her arms at what was hardly a proper request for help, but she schooled her response; she'd already pulled more attitude than she had ever dared before, and at least her Nii-sama was starting to see reason. "She wouldn't want your argument to becomes public; it would embarrass the Kuchiki Clan. She probably slipped out as quietly as she could, and is waiting somewhere neutral until you calm down enough to listen to her." Ignoring Byakuya's mute dislike of her assessment of his behavior, Rukia's brow furrowed. "So, for the sake of keeping this quiet, she would not have gone to Fourth. And she would not be with the Shihouins, I can tell you that much. There's bad blood there, and it's more than the thing with Jun, although she never told me the whole story. So that only leaves one other option..." Rukia glanced at Byakuya, hesitant.

"And that is?" Deep within hooded eyes, the tiny light of determined resolve started to glow.

"Where she went the last time, when her son died." Rukia said softly. "If she needed to get away – _really_ away – she'd go to Yoruichi."

* * *

Finding the exiled princess was far from complicated, although it did take a remarkably difficult concession on the part of the Kuchiki heir. For the first time in his entire spirit existence, Byakuya traveled to the human world and crossed the threshold of the Urahara Shoten.

The establishment's namesake stilled in obvious surprise the moment the Kuchiki reiatsu washed through the tiny shack. Unkempt and sprawled in an informal pose on the tatami, the infamous former captain and exile tipped back a brightly colored hat back to regard his unexpected visitor.

"Ah, so! Kuchiki-taicho, to what do I owe this honor?" Formal though the greeting might have been, it was laced with an impudent guilelessness that Byakuya instantly found offensive.

Byakuya regarded for the very first time the man whom he had every reason on Heaven and earth to loathe; instinctively, he reached out with his reiatsu, an automatic gesture along the lines of feeling out an opponent. He came across...nothing. Nothing tangible, that is, yet the man's power was clearly not absent. It was hidden yet present, like the air itself, its very invisibility suggesting a vast sort of impregnability. It was like nothing Byakuya had come across before; Senbonzakura shifted within Byakuya, immediately on guard, but decidedly hesitant to engage; something about that reiatsu that gave Byakuya pause.

All this passed in an instant, but did not go unnoticed. From beneath the brightly striped hat rim, grey eyes glittered keenly from their shadows. A tiny smile seemed to play across the man's pale features, although he waited respectfully enough. Byakuya summoned all of his dignity and recalled himself to the matter at hand.

"I seek the exile, Shihouin Yoruichi." Delivered with all the noble hauteur Byakuya could summon, which was considerable, it nonetheless managed to convey a moderately demeaning challenge. While Urahara's condemnation and exile from Soul society had been commuted after the War, it having been established beyond contention that his original sentence had been largely the result of manipulation and conspiracy, the Shihouin princesses had not been so lucky. The former Second squad captain had broken innumerable laws and directly violated her military duty in order to machinate Urahara's escape, as well as burned every Clan bridge behind her as she went. No redemption was available for such incontrovertible treason; in black irony, it was now the former Shihouin who found that she could no longer safely return to her celestial home. For his part, Byakuya stubbornly refused to consider that it was probably for that reason the scientist before him had chosen to remain in the real world after his exoneration.

The reminder hit home; the glittering eyes watching him glowed silver, the energy in the room shifting minutely into a decidedly less amiable aire. A quietly dangerous pause followed, after which Kisuke smiled. "Oiy! Yoruichi-san! You've got a visitor."

"Yeah, I noticed." The voice purred from directly behind Byakuya; despite himself, the Kuchiki whirled around to meet golden eyes, quirked in amused irony. "I'd have to be blind to miss you two having a reiatsu pissing contest." Kisuke chuckled, unperturbed at her jibe, while Byakuya felt himself glaring. Yoruichi grinned, insufferably. "Come on, Byakuya-go, out with it. For you to seek me out – and _here_ of all places - something must have happened. Something drastic." Her slanted eyes hardened, joviality slipping away. "What's going on?"

She watched with some interest while Byakuya tried to say the words with dignity. It was nearly impossible, with this pair of lynxes staring at him. "I am looking for Kazumi. There was...a disagreement between us, and she left the manse. Rukia was of the opinion you would know her whereabouts."

Yoruichi frowned, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. "I have not seen her in quite a while. Why did she leave the safety of the Kuchiki house?" Byakuya's eyes tightened at the odd phrasing, even as something close to shame colored his cheeks. Quietly, Yoruichi swore. "You threw her out, didn't you? Which means you know some of the truth of her." With a tiniest of motions, Yoruichi flicked her gaze over his shoulder to meet the quietly attentive shop owner. Instantly, Byakuya felt excluded; volumes seemed to pass in the silent glance. Without a word, Kisuke nodded and rose, slipping silently into the back room.

Byakuya ground his teeth; _some_ of the truth? Did everyone know things that he did not about Kazumi? "It is to learn the whole truth that I wish to speak with her..."

"Yeah, well, that's going to be tricky," Yoruichi growled. "If you threw her out, and she didn't make it to me, then that means the Shiouin Clan has her."

The way she said that made Byakuya's hackles rise. "If she is back with her Clan, then I can make formal overtures..."

Yoruichi snorted, loudly. "They'll never admit to having her. They've been waiting decades for the chance to get her back, and they'll do anything to keep from losing her again. We'll have to move quickly." She strode past him, to the back door of the room; as if on cue, Kisuke appeared and passed her something before vanishing again. Slipping the object into her obi and turning to catch the confusion on Byakuya's face, Yoruichi snapped. "Good gods, how little do you actually know about your own wife?"

That cut deep enough to forestall Byakuya's fury. Suppressing his shame, he told her, briefly, what he had heard from Fourth and from Kazumi herself. Yoruichi's eyes tightened, a flicker of something resembling sympathy flitting across her face before she sighed. "If you're going to risk yourself to get her back, then you need to know the truth. The _whole_ truth." Yoruichi stared at him intently, as if to gage the strength of his resolve. Byakuya stared back. Apparently mollified, Yoruichi started speaking, softly.

"You must know by now that Kazumi can touch minds, read them. Change them. What you don't know is how the Shihouin clan used that. How it used _her_." Byakuya stirred, but having started Yoruichi went on relentlessly.

"Yes, she can heal minds, but she can destroy them too. Strip them down to bare instinct, shatter all sense of self and conscience. Take away all that makes a soul human, and she can rebuild them into anything she wants. And what the SMC wanted were super soldiers." Golden eyes met hooded, midnight ones; both burned with anger. "She made killers, Byakuya. Infiltrators. Spies. Flawless, every one of them, singular of purpose and virtually unstoppable. Anything the Shihouins asked of her, she made for them, out of the empty husks of minds she herself had shattered. She's not just a mind-reader; she's the best weapon of intrigue the Shihouins could ever dream of, and it was just dumb luck that they got her." Yoruichi fell silent at the look on Byakuya's face as he took a moment to absorb her words.

"Why?" Byakuya's voice sounded terrifying, even to his own ears. "Why would Kazumi do such a thing..?" Something terrible twisted hotly in his gut. _Destroying minds, in order to build super-human weapons...?_

"She had no choice, Byakuya-go." Shadows circled Yoruichi's grim eyes. "They had her son." Byakuya felt his fist clench, too overwhelmed to speak. Yoruichi continued, quietly pained. "I only know so much; even my sources are limited in this, and Kazumi only ever told me so much. I know that her son was barely born before the SMC took him away, as an assurance that Kazumi would cooperate with their plans to build a super army. I know that she hated every single second of it. And," Yoruichi grated, her eyes narrowing further. "I know that she swore to get her son back, and to escape the Shiouin forever."

"How." Byakuya's jaw was clenched so hard he could hardly get words out. "How did she escape?"

"I don't know, and I didn't ask. But when she showed up here with Hajime, looking for the only other person ever to escape the reach of the SMC, you'd better believe I helped her."

Byakuya concentrated on breathing properly. "Why would she not tell me any of this?"

Yoruichi growled in the back of her throat. "It was hardly a happy ending, Byakuya. I found them a safe place to stay, but Hajime..." Golden eyes bore unspeakable sadness. "He was...broken. Twisted. It was useless trying to convince her that it was the SMC's doing; she's too good at her craft for that sort of assurance." Yoruichi sighed, the sound shivering through Byakuya. "She was breaking people for the SMC while she carried him. She didn't know it would affect her unborn child; when she found out, she nearly killed herself with blame, especially when even her talents proved to be useless on him. Even Kazumi cannot fix a mind that was never whole to begin with."

It was a long time before Byakuya found his voice. "She told me her son died."

"He did." Yoruichi's eyes glittered. "He killed himself. He was a tortured being, Byakuya, tormented; it was only a matter of time before he found a way to end his half-life. Kazumi was never the same afterwards; for years, she grieved. When she finally realized she needed to do something with her pain or let it consume her, she sought sanctuary at Fourth in exchange for healing broken minds – her form of penance. That's why-"

"She was at Fourth, during the War." Byakuya finished. "That is how she found herself married to me." He felt sick; the room seemed to be swaying.

Yoruichi nodded. "I can only begin to imagine what you must be feeling towards her right now, but I can assure you of this much: whatever reasons she had for marrying you, I can promise you she did not do it for the sake of Shihoin honor. She risked – and lost – everything, just to get _away_ from them."

Byakuya felt almost faint, his mind reeling with the bombardment of information. "But, the assassination attempts..."

Yoruichi scoffed. "They weren't assassination attempts, you idiot. They were _kidnapping_ attempts." Her eyes narrowed. "And you just threw her out on her ear, and did the SMC a huge damn favor."

Byakuya drew himself up, affronted. "The Shihouins would not dare abduct my wife..."

Yoruichi snorted. "She's not with you, and she's not with me." She didn't have to say much more.

Byakuya shook his head. "Impossible; she can defend herself. I have seen it with my own eyes..."

"Yes," Yoruichi agreed. "She's about as lethal as it gets – _if_ she uses her powers." She seemed to be starting a little too intently at Byakuya.

"Why would she not, in defense of her freedom..." Abruptly, Byakuya choked. _No. It cannot be...we have only been together for less than a year.._.

But Yoriuchi nodded, implacable as death, her confirmation slicing Byakuya's soul to ribbons as the room lurched around him.

"The only reason she would not – _under any circumstances_ – use her powers, is if she was with child."


	12. Chapter 12

The room lurched; everything went white for an indeterminate amount of time. Deep within him, Senbonzakura howled with an animalistic ferocity that shook the Kuchiki leader to his very roots.

It was Urahara's voice that drew him back to the present. "Portal's open."

Slowly the room came back into focus, just in time for Byakuya to catch another one of those laden glances passing between exiles. Yoruichi, already in battle mode, spoke with low urgency. "I'll need-"

"Yeah." An object flew threw the air as Urahara tossed a slender zanpaktou at Yoruichi while Byakuya silently ground his teeth. _Could these two not communicate with full sentences?_ Another hurled object - which appeared to be nothing more than a bundle of black cloth - was deftly snagged by Yoruichi and slung over her shoulder as she turned to Byakuya with a feral grin.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she rasped, her voice ringing with challenge. "What we're about to do means taking on the entire SMC single-handed. It's going to take a hell of a lot of cunning to defeat them, and even with everything I know about them it's not inconceivable that we'll meet a gruesome end." Behind her, Urahara silently watched him, grey eyes flashing.

"They have my wife." Byakuya's knuckles whitened on his sword hilt. The look in his eyes was pure death.

Yoruichi's grin widened, and even Urahara seemed to be smiling faintly. "Very well. Don't say I didn't warn you." Without another word, there was a flash of shunpo and the room was empty save one.

Kisuke stood alone for a moment longer, head inclined toward the floorboards and his gaze a million miles away. Listening to something only he could hear, with an enigmatic chuckle he settled down to wait.

* * *

The darkened corridor of the passageway between worlds gloomed ominously as the two figures ran full-tilt towards the light at the other end. For a long time there was nothing but the synchronized sound of their panting, controlled and focused despite the exertion their spirit bodies were forced to endure in this in-between no-man's-land. Despite his overriding concern for Kazumi, Byakuya was gratified to find that he easily kept up with the dark, lithe sprinter at his side.

It made perfect sense; Shihouin Yoruichi had been under exile in the real world for well over a century, during which time she had been up to gods only know what. Byakuya had spent the same period of time training and honing his considerable spirit power during every waking moment that did not involve Clan obligations or the necessary political maneuvering that had seen him ascending to the highest position possible in Sereitei. It only stood to reason that now, after all this time, he would finally be the equal of the noblewoman who had so casually bested him in his youth.

Yoruichi seemed to read his mind, glancing out of the corner of her stunning eyes with a hint of mischief. "You're sure you're ready for this? You have no idea the kinds of soldiers the SMC has stored up, and a rescue won't exactly be unexpected."

_Rescue_. The very idea that he should have to prize back his own wife from a Clan that should be his own family by marriage rankled every inch of Byakuya's pride. His countenance darkened. "They will not be allowed to stand in my way."

White teeth flashed grimly. "Fine confidence, Byakuya-boo, but there's some nasty surprises waiting for you. The SMC commands easily double the number of elite soldiers it lays claim to, and even that is an estimate based on my own reign over a century ago. For certain they have grown since then."

That gave Byakuya minute pause; it was a well-guarded secret, known among captains only, that the SMC commanded enough soldiers to outnumber the entire combined soldiers of the Gotei 13 squads. If that number was less than half of the true number of SMC that were waiting for them....it was a considerable threat, even for him. But numbers didn't mean everything.

"What do you suggest?" Asking for advice rankled, but Byakuya was too smart of a soldier not to know that whatever advantages they might claim lay with Yoruichi and her intimate knowledge of her own squad.

Yoruichi knew it too. "A frontal assault on the manse would not only see us quickly overwhelmed and defeated, but it would be publically humilating on too many levels to count. I'm fast and you're strong, but no way can we even think about knocking on the front door." A sudden grin, with an oddly nostalgic shade to it. "Good thing for us, we don't have to go through the front."

Byakuya felt an eyebrow crinkle. "You know another way in."

"And out." The light before them grew stronger as they drew close to their destination. "Fortunately, I was not exactly the most obedient of children, and long ago figured out ways to come and go as I pleased. They will be largely unknown and unguarded."

"You are certain?" The light of the Senkai gate was blinding as the reached they threshold of Soul Society.

Popping into existance just inside the spirit realm, Yoruichi paused long enough to meet Byakuya's eyes and stretch out a hand towards him. "Positive. They never once caught me as a child, and I've gotten a hell of a lot faster since then. Now, take my hand."

Byakuya was instantly uncomfortable. "I will follow right behind you," he countered stiffly.

Yoruichi snorted. "Nonsense, I'd lose you in a heartbeat. I'll take both of us there."

This was utterly intolerable. "Do not be ridiculous; I am perfectly capable-" Byakuya blinked, stared at thin air. From behind him, another snort.

"Now seriously, there's no time to argue about this." Whirling around, Byakuya glared daggers at a very smug Yoruichi, who had somehow managed to shunpo behind him without the slightest hint of motion, even to Byakuya's highly trained eyes. Hand held out, Yoruichi smirked at him impatiently.

Byakuya's palm slapped hers and gripped, rather harder than absolutely necessary. He fairly trembled with rage. "Go on, show me something I cannot do mysel-"

"_Shh_." Sharp and sibillant, Yoruichi urgently shushed Byakuya and dragged him up against a wall.

A wall that had rather suddenly appeared, setting Byakuya blinking in confusion. Between one instant and the next, a room had sprung up around them; richly decorated and sparsely furnished, it appeared to be a reception chamber. An unfamiliar garden bloomed beyond a single, large window, in front of which sat a delicatedly guilded desk. Annoyed, infuriated, Byakuya glared at Yoruichi.

"Where-?"

"We're _here_." Yoruichi hissed, urging him to silence while she balanced her lithe figure on her toes and reached with all her senses for any sign that their presence had been detected. "This is my home, and if you don't shut up we'll have a few thousand soldiers on us in a heartbeat..." Carefully, she drifted across the room - it may have been his imagination, but Byakuya could have sworn her fingertips grazed fondly across the desktop for the briefest of moments - and hovered by the door, listening carefully for any sign of discovery.

Too shocked to process the idea that Yoruichi had transported both of them well inside Shihouin walls with a single shunpo, Byakuya shoved the fact aside and forced himself to focus. Somewhere within these walls Kazumi was being held, against her will and relatively helpless for the sake of protecting the child she carried. _His child_. Coldness gripped Byakuya's vitals even as he felt himself settle into his own battle-readiness, hand on hilt, mind suddenly clear and calculating. Silently, he waited for Yoruichi's direction.

After a long moment of reassuring silence, Yoruichi gripped her own hilt and whispered softly. "This is the study, west wing. Detention chambers are underneath the northern wing, under the soldier barracks." At the unspoken question, Yoruichi shook her head. "I can't shunpo us directly there, it's heavily guarded with reiatsu dampers. No one in or out by kidou, and no way to use spirit power to find exactly where she is. We'll have to do this the old-fashioned way..." Reaching inside her obi, she pulled out the tiny object she had tucked there earlier in the Urahara Shoten and crept back to where Byakuya crouched near the desk. "Here, take this."

Byakuya frowned suspiciously at the tiny capsule. "What is it?"

"It will dampen you reiatsu," Yoruichi replied, unslinging the black bundle of cloth from over her shoulder; dropping to a crouch, she seemed to fiddle with it for a long moment. "Hurry up; chances are they're already registering your presence."

_Then why did you not ask me to take it before we got here...?_ The question died unspoken as Byakuya swallowed the proffered pill with an annoyed grimace. "How long until it takes effect?"

A swirl of black, and suddenly Yoruichi was swaddling herself with what appeared to be a cloak, black as night. "It should be working right about now..."

A sudden explosion of kidou, and the door flew into the room along with a stream of SMC soldiers. Withdrawing Senbonzakura, Byakuya glanced toward the desk to see what formation Yoruichi would take up, how best to play off her strengths to fight the enemies pouring into the small space...

But Yoruichi - and any hint of her reiatsu - had utterly vanished. For a moment the bitter flame of betrayal burned through Byakuya, but then it was gone, leaving behind a cold lethality that gave him drifting in an icy calm. Turning to regard the soldiers entering the room, the look on his face horrific enough to give even the elite SMC pause, Byakuya muttered a single word.

"_Chire_..."

* * *

Neck and shoulder tendons straining, Kazumi bit down hard and prevented yet another shriek from escaping her lips. Something bitter flooded her mouth; she'd bitten her tongue again, but the pain disappeared in relation to the rest of her torment. Nostrils flared while she panted frantically against the waves of agony that assailed her; it took all her flagging strength to keep from crying out, but that small victory was one of the few things that anchored her resolve. She knew it was one of the only things she could control right now, and control would keep her alive.

For a little while, at least.

Her torturer was good. VERY good. As if reading her mind, the snake-like voice murmured soothingly in the darkness.

"_You know this is pointless; I_ will _break you. It is only a matter of time_."

Gritting her teeth harder, Kazumi frantically sublimated a fresh wave of torment and forced herself to focus. _Breathe. Just breathe, Kazumi. Whatever you do, do NOT use your spirit power_....

The cool, creepy sound snaked out again. "_It would be so much easier to just relent. Submit, and I will release you from the pain_..."

Kazumi very nearly smiled; her captor may be talented at manipulating pain centers, but there were still flaws in his technique. Speaking, for instance, was in itself a tactical error. A common enough mistake, to try to lull or weaken the torturee into despairing, into believing whatever the torturer wished them to believe.

"_All you need to do is cooperate_..._use your spirit power, and this will all be over_..." The room was pitch black, her captor indiscernable but for the softly spoken promises, devestating in their sincerity. But words they were, and while her torturer was skilled, he was not the best.

Kazumi was the best. She knew every trick in the book, every possible way to break a soul, shatter sanity into a million irrecoverable fragments.

And Kazumi had never been so careless as to speak. All the minds she had broken, she had done so in perfect silence. Silence unravelled even the strongest of wills faster than any whispered deceptions could have managed, doubt and lonliness finding cracks in even the most stalwart of resolves. Words could destroy, could deceive, but the voice itself was a lifeline. It was something _real_, something distracting to cling to in the pitch-darkness that surrounded her.

"_All so pointless. Just give me what I ask...."_ To his credit, her tormenter managed to sound genuinely sorrowful. "_Just use your powers_..."

But Kazumi could not relent, not at any costs. More than life than her own hung in the balance. So, cling she did to a voice that cajoled and begged, and after a while she allowed a few cries to escape her. On her terms, her decision, but her torturer didn't know that.

A note of anticipation leaked into that hated whisper. "_Just reveal your secrets, unburden your soul. Your talent is such a heavy weight to bear. Reveal it, share it....Let me carry it for you.._."

Not a chance. Kazumi clenched her jaw again, her mind flitting towards the spark of life that burned inside her. She did not know if the Shihouins knew of her pregnancy, but it did not matter either way. She was sure they would consider it nothing more than a weakness. In truth it lent Kazumi strength, to know that a single break on her part would cause more damage than she was capable of handling.

Another cry, and then she slumped as the pain lifted for a moment; anyone else would have sighed in relief, but Kazumi recognized a strategic amelioration of torment. It suited her captor to give her a moment's respite, just as it suited Kazumi to appear to be weakening faster than she really was; she just had to hold out long enough. _Someone_ - Byakuya, maybe, although the hatred and betrayal she had last seen in his eyes cut her deeper than any of the physical wounds currently being inflicted on her in the dark - would come for her. Someone _had_ to. There were those she had entrusted with the news of her pregnancy, and someone would know that she was helpless right now.

_Someone_ would save her...

Sweat dripping off her forehead, Kazumi cried out as the torment started up again and clung to that tiny strand of hope. For the sake of her child, she _had_ to.

* * *

Breathing hard, Byakuya shoved a lock of midnight hair out of his eyes and forced yet another onslaught of black-clad assassins to the ground. He'd lost track of how long he had been dancing around the Shihouin room, or how many soldiers had thrown themselves into obtaining his defeat, only to succumb to their own. It hardly mattered, for no matter how many groaning shinigami littered the floor around him, there was always another wave, each more determined and skilled than the last and far too willing to learn from the mistakes of their predecessors.

Not that they made mistakes, really; Yoruichi hadn't been kidding in her estimation of SMC strength, nor the ferocity of their response to invasion. It would have been something had they been but hordes of mindless underlings throwing themselves into the fray. As it was, each soldier was highly skilled and obviously as intelligent as they were experienced; Byakuya's strength was rapidly fading in the face of the innumerable attacks being hurled at him. Kidou or hakuda, zanjutsu or shunpo, the SMC were not lacking in anything but raw spirit power, and that one distinct advantage was being meticulously chipped away. For the first time in a long time, Byakuya found himself evaluating how much longer he could withstand the current combat situation before his own safety would be compromised. It was a sobering thought, as Senbonzakura felled another complement of soldiers who appeared in a whiff of kidou far too close for Byakuya's comfort.

_Intolerable; this cannot be allowed to continue. I_ must _find Kazumi_... Buyakuya ground his teeth. Not that he had anything other than a general designation to go by to find his wife, and still no sign of Yoruichi. For the life of him, Byakuya could not figure out how she had vanished so completely from his senses, nor why she had disappeared at the first sign of combat.

The momentary reflection cost him; a hand grasped at his shoulder, made to whirl him around. Chastising himself for the slip in concentration, Byakuya whipped around to face attack, feeling out with his senses for the enemy that had so deftly snuck inside his perimeter. His senses found nothing at all, an evaluation completely at odds with the obvious physical contact; so it was with quite a dose of astonishment that he completed his twist to find himself staring into golden eyes, all but occluded by a black hood.

"Come on, dammit. It's getting way too heated in here." Yoruichi growled with an authoritative tone that caught Byakuya momentarily off-guard. In an instant, they were outside the mansion and flickering towards Sereitei. If he concentrated hard enough, he could just make out the blur of motion around him as the Shihoin exile moved with breathtaking speed. Still, he could make no sense at all of her shunpo; his still felt no spirit presence at all emanating from his former rival.

"Stop!" Suddenly furious, Byakuya yanked free and ground to a halt. Almost instantly, Yoruichi appeared at his side, looking annoyed. He returned the glare with interest. "We are not leaving Kazumi behind."

"Of course we're not," Yoruichi snarled, rolling her massive eyes. "She's not there, trust me. But I know where-"

"Trust you?!" A century of ill will surged through Byakuya. "You left me alone, unguarded."

Yoruichi managed a fair approximation of chagrin. "I know. You made a perfect distraction - with a little help, of course." She snatched off the roughly-sewn hood off her head, and as merlot-colored locks tumbled around her shoulders a small piece of the puzzle fell into place. Her reiatsu washed over Byakuya, seething with impatiance.

Byakuya's glare heated as he gave the black cloak a harder look. "You hid your reiatsu." A quick delving of his own state of being, now that he had a moment free to notice, showed his reiatsu surging with unusual voracity. "And you amplified mine; you said that pill would _dampen_ my spirit power."

"A tiny white lie." The minx had the audacity to grin. "We would have told you, but there wasn't time and it worked better with the element of surprise. Don't worry; it also ramped up your shikai - you would have found yourself holding out much longer than usual, even for someone of your talents. Of course, you're gonna be hella sleepy for the next few days..."

Between one breath and the next, he had Yoruichi's throat in his hand. For a split second he allowed himself the tiniest bit of congratulation at the surprise in her eyes. Seething, Byakuya fairly spat. "My wife may be dead or dying, and you and your filthy lover play games? Now tell me this instant where we are going and what other suprises you have in store..." His turn to choke off, as the cold feel of her steel at his own neck. He'd never even felt her draw her sword.

Yoruichi's eyes were deathly serious. "Temper still hiding under all that veneer, eh Byakuya-boo?" Byakuya's cheeks warmed as Yoruichi, all business now, scruitinized him for a long moment. "Good; it's nice to know you are still capable of passion. You'll need it to save Kazumi." Prying his fingers from her throat, she took a step back, zanpaktou still drawn on him. "You think we're playing games? Anything but. There were three things I wished to accomplish by dropping you into the fray like that. The first, was to test the strength of the SMC after my long absence, the second was to draw their attention so I could sneak alone in to the holding cells. I know them better anyway, and Kisuke only had one reiatsu-hiding cloak," she explained, her voice rising over his attempts to protest. "It's not an estimation of your abilities, baka; if I didn't think you were a damn fine soldier I never would have left you in the middle of an SMC onlsaught by yourself. And it worked anyway - she was there but they moved her to a secondary location just this morning, and I found that out in half the time it would have taken me to drag you along."

Hardly mollified, Byakuya swallowed bitterly. "And the third thing you wished to accomplish?" He hissed through clenched teeth.

Finally, Yoruichi lifted her sword for his collarbone and, oddly enough, smiled warmly. "I wanted to be sure you really wanted to save Kazumi. Oh, I know you want your wife back," she assured him, at the fury that washed across his expression. "But I wanted to be sure that it was more than just a Clan Head wanting his possession returned to him."

To his utter horror, Byakuya felt his face flush, a wave of sickened worry surging deeply through him. _Gods, Kazumi...if she is harmed in any way...if my child..._ Even more mortifying, something prickled hotly at the corner of his eyes, forcing him to blink rapidly for a moment. The unfamiliar feeling of fear and something akin to helplessness weighed him down as Byakuya dragged his eyes up to meet Yoruichi's. "Please, Yoruichi," the faint, strangled mewl could not be his own voice, could it? "I have to find her..."

A tiny, warm hand touched his for the briefest of moments. "We'll find her, Byakuya-boo. And we will rescue her, and your child. I promise you."

The prickling was back; blinking hard, Byakuya turned on the pretense of examining their surroundings. "We are heading back to Sereitei. Towards the Gotei. You believe Kazumi to be there?" Hope surged through his breast; perhaps this was all just a misunderstanding, and Kazumi was safe at home and waiting for him....

Yoruichi's next words doused his dreams. "I know she is. If she's not in their holding cells, there is only one other place the Shihouin would have taken her. If they couldn't get her to reveal the secrets of her mysterious abilities, there's only one other person sick enough to examine a pregnant woman." Sheathing her zanpaktou and gathering reiatsu, she too turned towards the Gotei. "Come on - we're going to visit Mayuri."


	13. Chapter 13

"Turn that bloody noise off!" Mayuri snarled, casually backhanding his vice. "Dammit, Nemu – can't you see I'm trying to concentrate here?"

Nemu bowed her head and assumed the submissive pose that would calm his ire. Not that she had much hope of calming her father at all, given the alarm that had just been tripped, resulting in the very noise that had earned her a slap.

"Forgive me, Mayuri-sama," she murmured in her soothing, meek voice, even as she reached over the silence the klaxon. "It seems the perimeter-"

"Silence, you little whore!" Another slap, harder this time; Nemu felt her ears ringing. "You think I don't know a damn breach alarm when I hear it!? Go take care of it, this instant – you know damned well how important my current project is!!" Kurotsuchi grabbed his progeny by the left breast and hurled her towards the door. In the dark, he misjudged and she bounced painfully against the wall before righting herself. "The test subject is close to caving; I only need a little more time before she cracks like a rotten egg." Nemu already knew that, as it was; the feral, anticipatory look on her father's face was all too familiar to her. "Deal with the intruders. And Nemu," Mayuri turned to glance at her, a bloodthirsty look in his eyes. "Do not fail, or I'll dismember you again."

"_Hai_, Mayuri-sama." Another bow, and Nemu turned to leave. The ability to feel worry or concern had long been programmed out of her, but as she hurried down the hallway she sincerely wished that her efforts would prove useful. Dismemberment was messy as well as painful, and it was her vast preference to remain in one piece. Mayuri always made her clean up the blood afterwards, and it must be admitted, scrubbing the floors was one of Nemu's least favorite things to do.

* * *

"_Yikes_."

Just inside the walls of Twelfth squad, Yoruichi's slender zanpaktou sliced through what appeared to be a shinigami crossed with a rhinoceros. With a bad hair cut to boot. Nose wrinkled, the Shiouin princess peered at the rancid corpse with a slight shudder. "I knew we'd come across some creepy shit in here, but seriously..." With a disgusted sniff, she stepped over the body and headed down the first corridor that presented itself.

Byakuya could not help but feel a certain reticence as they strolled into the foreign squad complex. Up until they were inside the perimeter, he had been seething with hot desire to rescue his beloved. Now, on another captain's turf, his normal proclivities resurged. "Are you quite certain such an entrance is necessary? Kurotsuchi is a fellow captain..."

"Mayuri is a sick son of a bitch with more disgusting secrets and immoral experiments to his name than even the SMC can pretend to. And he's probably conducting some of them on your wife." Golden eyes glittered mercilessly at him. "Don't retreat into propriety now, dammit. I need you sharp-"

Something flickered over Yoruichi's shoulder; with barely a hint of motion, Byakuya dragged her out of the way as several silver-tipped spikes pierced the air where she had just stood to embed themselves, still quivering, in the wall.

Cold, slate eyes quickly scanned for further threats as Yoruichi pulled out of Byakuya's arms, muttering a quiet thanks. She stopped briefly by the bespiked wall, pulling one free and giving it the tiniest sniff. "Poisoned. Mayuri sure doesn't take well to visitors, does he?"

"We are hardly dropping by for afternoon tea," replied Byakuya with a hint of droll, his eyes still roving.

Yoruichi paused for a moment, gaping. "Byakuya-boo – was that a joke?!" The corners of her mouth twitched.

Byakuya fought a growl; one moment the woman was urging him to focus, the next she was twitting him. "It was an observation-" he started, before an odd rumbling sound cut him off. His hand tightened on Senbonzakura.

Yoruichi did likewise, crouching and doing her own quick survey of their surroundings. "Dammit, I was afraid of this – the layout is completely different. Mayuri didn't waste any time completely erasing all sign of his predecessor...." She growled, deep in her throat. "I have no idea how to get down there, but Kazumi _should_ be in the labs below us; probably the more shielded ones. Mayuri would want to be somewhere with reiatsu dampers, for when-" She bit off; a hint of movement down the long corridor drawing her attention.

Byakuya dropped into a defensive stance, withdrawing his katana. No doubt about it – soldiers were approaching. Lots of them.

"For when?" he prompted, wishing Yoruichi to finish her thought before impending battle took all their attention.

"For when they break her." Yoruichi finished grimly. Ahead of them, shifting shadows morphed into soldiers, quickly closing in.

"_Kazumi will not break_." Conviction laced Byakuya's tone, Senbonzakura's release command hovering on his lips. "She is strong, and she will not risk her child." _Our child._..

"Nothing in heaven or hell would break that woman - as long as her child lives." Poised on her toes, Yoruichi held her sword out before her, parallel to the floor. It was beginning to glow. Her voice turned to steel. "But all Mayuri needs to do is discover that, and abort the child..."

The room turned red; Byakuya could barely see the waves of SMC descending on them through the fury that engulfed him. "He. Would. Not. DARE."

"Of course he would, which is why we have no time to waste," Yoruichi agreed; the soldiers were mere steps away now, a seething wave of black death. "Now, close your eyes."

It was only long years of battle experience that caused Byakuya to obey so quickly, an instinctive need to trust the swordsman at his side in a fight taking over his reluctance – even now – to trust Yoruichi. As it turned out, he was glad such a reaction was automatic; the light that burst from Yoruichi's shikai burned spots into Byakuya's vision even from behind his closed lids.

"_Buraindo, Griffin!_"

* * *

Something was wrong with the test subject, and for the life of him Mayuri couldn't figure it out. There were few things that annoyed him more than a test subject that didn't behave correctly, and one of them was not being able to figure out why. Perturbed, he reviewed his experiment notes.

Despite his earlier threats to his useless vice-captain, the current small-scale invasion of his squad was little more than an irritation. Mayuri had been promised the best possible security measures in exchange for running this experiment, as well as profit rights to all test results. As such, he could afford to ignore the intruders; it would not be any of his own squad members sent to fight them off, which was really more of a necessity than a bonus. Brilliant as most of his underlings were, to a one they were rather hopeless as combatants. Hell, one of the reasons Kurotsuchi had been forced to spend years upgrading the squad building with a vast network of booby traps came from the fact that, relying on his subordinates alone, his complex could have been taken over by a strong sneeze, much less an oversight committee. That last was one of the few things Mayuri feared, and he had long ago secured himself against the possibility of anything being discovered without his permission.

Wild eyes scanned his monitors as Mayuri frantically searched for a clue as to why his test subject had held out so long. It made no logical sense; he knew for a fact he had driven the woman's pain levels far beyond those tolerable by most spirit bodies, and that was using combat-level shinigami baselines. He had also used verbal and emotional stimulation and manipulation – some through speech alone, some through the application of various medical cocktails – well past even abnormal red-lines, and still the wretched creature refused to use her powers to save her own miserable life. Mayuri had actually been forced to stop the torment and administer some measure of healing on occasion to make sure she didn't die before releasing a strong enough sample of her reiatsu signature for recording and duplication.

It made no sense whatsoever; absently, Mayuri crushed a readout in his fist and went over the numbers again. The woman was young, but not so resilient that she should have withheld the bombardment administered. This particular approach of life-threatening torment was one Mayuri liked and used often; he considered himself to be a master conductor of the various ways to keep a spirit body hovering on the brink of death. Not yet had he lost a single subject a moment before he wanted to, and neither had he ever had a creature hold out so long. He felt mildly impotent, which enraged him. Scanning her physical readouts one last time, Mayuri's glance flickered over the spirit energy that held her body together...

_There_. A blip, so tiny he'd almost missed it. There was an infinitesimal speck of her spirit-particle makeup that vibrated at a slightly different frequency from the rest of her body. Instantly alert, Mayuri peered closer, his evilly brilliant mind racing to interpret the readings.

He sat bold upright.

"Aaaahhhh......" All the tension melted out of his bulky frame as the sense of potential faliure vanished in the light of certainty. Chuckling, Kurotsuchi rubbed his hands together; this was a simple problem and easily fixed. The test subject had, after all, had a single overriding concern to use as a lifeline against the torture. His task was almost depressingly easy now – simply remove the lifeline, and this woman's fascinating mind control abilites would be his.

"Nemu," he barked into a commlink. "Bring me a syringe and the following chemicals...."

* * *

With a grunt, Byakuya downed yet another black-clad assassin and whirled to check his back; Yoruichi was still there, her sword glowing like the sun and felling everything in its path. Which, as it turned out, was quite a few soldiers; Yoruichi's shikai had done a rather thorough job of felling the initial and overwhelming onslaught, but predictably there were plenty of soldiers behind the first. How long they had been attacking was as difficult to discern as how many soldiers yet remained; the tide seemed unending.

By staying behind Byakuya, Yoruichi's katana was able to protect his back and drop anyone who got too close, without blinding Byakuya in the process of his own onslaught. Shadows danced crazily around them, the light from Griffin destroying the vision of the oncoming soldiers while Senbonzakura sliced wave after wave to ribbons. When the chance presented itself, Byakuya caught Yoruichi's eye.

"SMC."

She nodded grimly, taking out a kendou master with little more than a casual swipe. "_Only_ SMC. They wouldn't be here if they weren't backing Mayuri. Kazumi's definitely here." Her golden eyes tightened in frustration. "If only we knew the fucking layout..." Suddenly her jaw clacked shut. "Holy shit..." She grabbed Byakuya's sleeve; this time, he felt her gathering reiatsu for shunpo. "Hang on, I just had an idea..."

Byakuya didn't even have time to argue as they vanished together in a wave of kidou.

* * *

"Nemu!!" Mayuri roared; he was fairly trembling with impatience, and he could not understand what was taking the little worm so long. He'd long ago set up her personal rooms as a command central for the complex security system – since she didn't require sleep, it made sense to ensure that she could spend the long hours of the night ensuring their safety – and it wasn't that far of a walk from her room to the medical lockers. She should have secured the materials he had requested and reported herself back down in the labs at least four minutes ago. Vexed, he glared at the darkened window that allowed full view of his test subject; his torment had ceased once he'd puzzled out the cause of her resolve, and she would be recovering some of her senses if left alone too long.

_Dammit, Nemu, I'll have you pulled limb from limb for your laziness...!_

Finally, the soft whisper of a door opening sighed across the silent lab.

"About damn time, you little maggot! What the hell took you so long-" Turning, Mayuri bit off the rest.

Nemu was standing in the door alright, syringe and chemicals in hand. Unfortunately, she was not alone.

"What the fuck are you ingrates doing in my private laboratory!?" Mayuri spat, infuriated. "How the hell did you find-"

"It wasn't hard," growled Yoruichi. "All we had to do was find Nemu and follow her." She shook her head, purple tresses bouncing. "Changed everything except the vice-captains quarters, huh? Guess little Nemu here wasn't worth a remodel."

"She is not worth the air she breathes, obviously!!" His worthless vice wilted under his disgust, shrinking behind the two captain-level shinigami crowding the doorway. Mayuri quivered, fit to be tied. "You are trespassing on Squad territory – this is _outrageous_!"

He choked off in a strangled gasp; between one eyeblink and the next, a thousand blade points hovered around his throat and face. The pink slivers hanging a lash away from his gimlet eyes seemed to be the most eager, an impression at odds with the stone-still figure standing in the doorway, all pale skin and black hair.

And charcoal eyes that promised nothing short of an agonizingly slow death.

A velvety voice sliced through the tension in the room. "You have something which does not belong to you," Yoruichi purred. "Now, I suggest you return Byakuya's wife before he gets _really_ pissed."

For a long moment, Mayuri spluttered in indignation, seemingly at a total loss, but that was only long enough for his fingers to surreptitiously find a button on the console behind it. That done, his expression shifted into an evil kind of glee and he began to chuckle. "You honestly think me helpless?? One more step into this room and I will finish your little harlot with a single keystroke." Kurotsuchi moved slightly, just enough to show his gnarled finger hovering over a red button on the console behind him.

Byakuya froze. He had no way of knowing what that button really did, but he clearly could not risk entering the room either. Without tearing his gaze from the hateful captain before him, Byakuya's head turned just slightly. "Yoruichi..."

She was already gone. Mayuri cursed and stabbed his finger down, collapsing into a pained howl as it jammed against Yoruichi's blade.

She tusked, having appeared with mind-boggling speed behind him and perched herself on the console, her katana neatly intercepting the motion. "Watsa matter, Mayuri? Papercut...?"

Mayuri let out a howl of fury; for a long moment he seemed to wrestle with himself before vanishing in a retreat of his own shunpo. A moment later, Nemu vanished as well.

Byakuya could have cared less; he was already across the room, his face pressed up against the dark window pane into the chamber beyond. "_Gods – Kazumi!"_

"Hang on, lemme find the switch..." Yoruichi jabbed at several controls on the console.

Byakuya simply took a breath and tore the door off its hinges with his bare hands. An instant later, he was inside.

* * *

_Something was wrong_.

She knew it, deep within what was left of herself. The pain should have come back by now. There was no reason for her torturer to have held off this long.

Kazumi was barely sensate, hanging onto her sanity by the merest of threads – only a little bit longer and she would lose all sense of herself. Only a few more hours of agony, and all that made her what she was would burn away, her personality melting down to a single, tremulous thread of consciousness.

Once there, all would become irrational instinct. And the strongest instinct was survival, no matter what. Once Kazumi was reduced to nothing more than instinct, all it would take would be one final nudge, and she would unleash her spirit power. Just as a drowning person will take that last gasp, hoping for air, so she would reach out and grasp at her tormentor, one last chance to wrest free of the pain and save herself.

And once that happened, she would be lost.

No...that wasn't right. _She_ wouldn't be lost. Something else – something more important than her – would be lost. She couldn't even remember what it was....

Sounds. Swirls of spirit power. Kazumi flinched, in the darkness, sensing more than hearing the chaos ensuing in the room beyond hers. She didn't know what was happening, hardly cared anymore. Deep within, she started to tremble. Soon, the pain would start again. Soon, she would be finished.

A loud crash, light pouring into the room. Kazumi cried out, drew back.

_No! Please, gods, no....I can't take anymore....!_

And then strong arms wrapped around her, lifted her. A voice, beautiful enough to bring tears to her eyes, told her she was safe. Scared, afraid this was yet another trick to force her submission, she tried to pull away....

Her strength ran out. Without a sound, the feel of warmth and strength wrapped around her, Byakuya's sent filling her nostrils, Kazumi sank into white oblivion.

* * *

"Byakuya!" Yoruichi's shout echoed around the small control room, her eyes taking in the monitors. "Cut the reunion short – we've got the entire damn SMC bearing down on us. More than before...more than at my manse, even...."

The tall figure swept out of the torture chamber, Kazumi held tight in Byakuya's arms. She looked smaller, somehow, as if she had shrunk. Yoruichi took a closer look at the prone woman and swore.

Byakuya's eyes bore something Yoruichi couldn't stand to look at. "We must get to Fourth Squad. Immediately." He barely seemed able to choke out the words.

"Yeah, well, that's gonna be tricky." Yoruichi gripped her sword tighter, urgency spilling into her normal calm. "There's at least a thousand soldiers surrounding us, and I can't shunpo us without knowing the layout – gods know where we'd end up." Cursing thickly, she turned back to the monitors. "Maybe I can call up a floor plan..."

"There is no time." Byakuya stated firmly; grabbing Yoruichi's arm, he tightened his grip on Kazumi and flashed blind.

"Wha-!" Yoruichi's attempt at protest was futile; dragged along by Byakuya's considerable reiatsu, she seemed more than slightly relieved when they emerged from his inter-dimensional shift in the middle of a large room instead of being immolated. "You're lucky you didn't land us right in the middle of a wall or something!!" She seemed almost as angry as she was impressed at Byakuya's leap of faith. "Easy, Byakuya-boo; it won't help Kazumi if you get us both killed!"

"Sadly, you don't seem to have a choice in the matter." A slithery voice behind them dripped with satisfaction. "As unlikely as it seemed that anyone would be crazy enough to attempt a blind shunpo in my complex, it was prudent to take steps to protect against such rash desperation."

Turning, Byakuya and Yoruichi faced a very angry and thoroughly smug Kurotsuchi. He tilted his head at them, grinning his rictus grin in a manner thoroughly disturbing. "The complex is designed to channel any blind shunpo directly to my personal quarters. You are quite trapped, I assure you." He unslung his ugly katana and swung it absently. "Did you really think I would just run away and let you take my experiment away? I merely regrouped long enough to get me zanpaktou - now that I am not quite so unarmed, we'll see how easy of an opponent you find me."

With one smooth motion, Byakuya transferred Kazumi to Yoruichi's arms and withdrew Senbonzakura. "Yoruichi-sama," he said quietly, thickly. "Please see that Kazumi is kept safe. No matter what."

"Byakuya," Yoruichi replied in sotto. "This room is sealed; I cannot run as long as there is a reiatsu shield around it..."

"I know." Byakuya was already holding Senbonzakura, blade tip to floor, wrist turned in. "Keep back and keep her safe. I will take care of Kurotsuchi." He then fixed his adversary with a look of pure frozen malice while the familiar words tripped across his tongue.

"_Senbonzakura Kageyoshi._"

Mayuri just chuckled. "You're really going to disgrace yourself with a duel, over some chit you had banished from your house? Really, I thought you nobles were far more priggish than that." With calm dismissiveness, he muttered his own release command.

"_Kakimushire, Ashisogi Jizou_."

Despite the massive bankai that appeared before him, taking up a large portion of the very large room, Byakuya stood impassive under the onslaught of captain-level spirit power swirling around him. All he needed was to glance out of the corner of his eye at Yoruichi holding the emaciated form of Kazumi, and all the strength and resolve in the universe was his. Without a single word or an iota of hesitation, Byakuya attacked.

The next moments were a blur of raging spirit powers, the clashing of captain-level reiatsu nearly unhinging the room around them. The reiatsu shield, however, held fast; Byakuya gritted his teeth, then discarded that possibility. He had hoped, for a split second, that two unleashed bankais in one place would have been enough to unravel the shield. Clearly, Mayuri had planned for that eventuality.

Seeming to read his mind, Kurotsuchi roared with laughter. "Was that your grand plan?! Of course the shield is strong enough – for _ten_ bankais, in case the little kitten over there was thinking of adding hers. You're here as long as I want you to be – _and you're not leaving with the girl_. She's worth more to me than you can imagine, Kuchiki!"

"Kazumi is worth more to me than my very life, Kurotsuchi," Byakuya returned in a deceptively soft voice. "I will not hesitate to kill you."

"No, but you will find that rather difficult to accomplish." Mayuri's laughter continued to ripple. "Do you really think that pretty flower blade stands a chance against me?"Cackling, Mayuri attacked again. "You can't cut air, my boy. Especially _poisoned air_..."

Byakuya felt his chest constrict, tight with the unfamiliar feeling of panic. Lightening-quick, he whipped Senbonzakura around to a killing blow towards the enormous, worm-like manifestation in front of him...

Not nearly fast enough. Ashisogi Jizou puckered up its infantine face and belched out a thick fog of green gas. The deadly cloud didn't move quickly, but as it slowly dissipated and spread throughout the room Byakuya realized, with sinking heart, that this was one thing he couldn't cut.

"Kazumi-!" Horrified, he whirled around to where Yoruichi hovered over his prone wife. Dark face tight, Yoruichi was holding her glowing katana aloft, but as her eyes met Byakuya's he could see that she was just as helpless against the drifting fog as he was. Desperate, Byakuya roared and turned back towards Mayuri. _Perhaps if I can incapacitate him, the poison will render ineffective._..

Byakuya had no time to test his theory. Without a hint of warning, the reiatsu shield abruptly vanished.

Disoriented, Byakuya was taken by surprise at a howl of horror that wrenched out of Mayuri; a violent spasm shook him and he dropped to the floor.

"Well, well. What a mess you've made of things, Mayuri. Took me forever to find this place. How kind of you to set up a reinforced reiatsu shield! Drew me like iron fillings." Out of the darkness emerged a pale, slender figure. Though it walked without a limp, the tap-tapping of a walking cane beat in counterpoint to slow, deliberate steps. Byakuya caught a flash of silver and a hint of a grin. "You never did learn how to invert a shield, did you? Prevents unraveling from _without_ as well as within."

Byakuya's eyes widened in shock. "Urahara Kisuke!"

"One and the same!" The former exile replied jovially enough, although a razor-sharp edge to the man's gaze glittered with danger. "Home again home again, hippity hop. Although I can't say I love what you've done with the place, Kurotsuchi. Downright gloomy." He shook his head and clucked at Mayuri, who seemed to be completely paralyzed where he crouched on the floor. Something in Kisuke's face hardened and turned frightening as his gaze rested on the kneeling figure. "Now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

On his hands an knees, Mayuri seemed to have recovered somewhat from the fit that had dropped him. He gazed at his predecessor with pure malice. "I don't answer to you anymore, you common _criminal_! _I'M _captain now-!" The nearly-forgotten manifestation behind him reared up with a roar, throwing itself at the blond shopkeeper as if intending to crush him.

Byakuya flinched, silently ordering Senbonzakura around to protect Urahara...

But it wasn't needed. Kisuke calmly raised a hand and, without any apparent effort whatsoever, stopped Ashisogi Jizouwith the flat of his palm.

Silence filled the room for a long, terrible moment, its inhabitants frozen in place.

Urahara cocked a pale eyebrow at Mayuri. "Have you forgotten the requirements of the keeper of the Maggots Lair? Perhaps you've forgotten your stay in its bowels – or who put you there in the first place." Slowly, he shook his head, a terrible sadness creeping into his expression. "So many chances have been given to you, Kurotsuchi Mayuri. You have wasted them all. Did you really think a day of reckoning would not come?"

Byakuya didn't understand any of what was going on; before he could unravel any of it, a tug at his sleeve drew him away from the fascinating tableau before him.

Golden eyes caught his. "We need to get out of her. NOW."

Byakuya hesitated, turning back towards the middle of the room. A heady sort of dread was starting to fill him...until he realized that it wasn't dread.

Thick, silvery waves of reiatsu were starting to pour out of Urahara. The sound it made - a sweet, seductive keening that rippled with chaos – set Byakuya's teeth on edge. Wave after wave swept across the room, each one stronger than the last; within moments, the power levels emanating from Kisuke were enough to drive Byakuya back a step or two.

"I would listen to her if I were you." Urahara hadn't lifted his eyes from the figure on the floor, even as he spoke softly over his shoulder. "You should leave. Right now." A slow grin was starting to spread across his face, and it might have been Byakuya's imagination but his silvery eyes were starting to glow a deep, throbbing crimson. "Mayuri and I have a bit of catching up to do."

Mesmerized, Byakuya tore his gaze away. His eyes fell on the blue-black hair of the prone figure in Yoruichi's arms. _Kazumi – she is all that is important. Time to leave, indeed. _Turning his back on the still-rising maelstrom churning around the room, he pulled his wife into his arms and, together with Yoruichi, turned to leave.

The heavy fall of their running feet didn't ring loudly enough, as behind them Mayuri started to scream.

* * *

"Are you certain it is prudent to leave Urahara alone...?" Byakuya could not help wondering out loud as he and Yoruichi ran down a 12th squad hall; the screams slowly started to fade into the distance behind him, even as – impossibly - the reiatsu pouring out of the room continued to increase....

Yoruichi just snorted. "Are you kidding? Kisuke's _always_ been able to handle Mayuri. Why do you think that little weasel helped get him arrested and exiled? Kurotsuchi has always known he would never advance to captain through a fair fight, unless he sought advancement to another squad. As if another squad would have him..." She broke off as something caught her attention. "There!"

Byakuya followed Yoruichi's pointed finger and grunted in satisfaction; light poured through a doorway up ahead. That must be the way outside. Once in open air, they would be able to orient themselves within moments and Fourth would be just a few flash-steps away...

The doorway darkened as several figures dropped into view. Byakuya slowed, but not by much; a silent command sent Senbonzakura wending towards the obstructions, with intent to cut them down swiftly.

What happened next shocked Byakuya to his very fingertips.

Senbonzakura struck; he knew it, could feel the contact in his very marrow. But the figures did not drop. Impossibly, they not only stayed upright, but to a one they advanced.

"Byakuya - STOP!" Yoruichi's sudden shout startled him further, even as her hand on his arm dragged him to a halt. For the first time ever, he saw a hint of fear in her enormous eyes. The ragged whisper that followed drew all the moisture from Byakuya's mouth.

"_Super soldiers!_"


	14. Chapter 14

Byakuya ground to a halt, the naked urgency in Yoruichi's voice stopping him dead in his tracks. Skin prickling, Byakuya felt his breath catch and his own voice, when it came, was also a near-whisper.

"What are they?" He clutched Kazumi tighter, watching the advancing figures fan out to surround them. More creatures appeared behind them, without making a sound; how they had gotten there, Byakuya couldn't say. "Senbonzakura-"

"Will do fuck-all against these guys," Yoruichi hissed, her own grip tightening vainly on her hilt despite her words. "_These_ are the soldiers I told you about - _the ones Kazumi created_." Golden eyes tightened as she spun around to keep an eye on the soldiers closing at their rear. "You can cut them all you want, but they won't stop. _Ever_. They only know one thing - their orders. And they will keep going until they've completed their mission. They don't feel pain or doubt or fear. The _only_ way to defeat them is dismemberment or decapitation – and you'd better believe they're armored against both."

_Impossible_, Byakuya thought, keeping the word to himself; there was no way these creatures were infallible. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Well, if my readings in the lab were anything to go by, there's a thousand of these guys closing in on us." Yoruichi looked grim. "Under the circumstances, I suggest we run like hell." Without further preamble, she turned and sprinted towards the first open corridor. "Come on - Kazumi needs immediate attention, so we don't have time to fight them all. There's gotta be another way out of this place!"

"Yoruichi-!" Cursing, Byakuya gave one defiant, firm shake of his head even as his mind raced. In his arms, Kazumi still lay limp and unconscious; Yoruichi was right in that getting to Fourth was of paramount importance. Yet, there was an exit _right there_ - furiously, Byakuya eyed the super soldiers before him. _There must be_ some _way to defeat them_... Reaching with his senses, Byakuya realized with a jolt that none of the soldiers emanated reiatsu. _If they cannot be felled, and do not posess reitasu....then they can be halted. _Quietly, he spoke a single binding chant, aiming it at the nearest super soldier.

_"Bakudo 61: Rukujyoukourou!"_

The dark-clad figure raised a hand, displaying a tiny object; before Byakuya could so much as blink, a burst of hankai-energy shot out from the object and hurtled towards Byakuya's binding spell. Canceling each other in midair, the kidou sputtered and went out.

Rarely had Byakuya felt so shocked in his entire afterlife. ""Impossible-!!"

"You seem to like that word." Yoruichi grunted in annoyance, appearing suddenly at his shoulder and grabbing it fast. "They're shielded against that too, baka! Now, we have to go find another exit - _immediately_!" With a yank, she hauled him after her, winking through a tiny hole in the soldiers surrounding them before they had a chance to close up. With a tiny sigh of relief, she glanced back over her shoulder. "Good - they're not terribly fast, but they are indominable, and they will keep coming no matter what we do."

"They are herding us." Byakuya muttered, annoyed, gripping Kazumi tighter.

"Of course they are!" Yoruichi snapped. "They're not stupid; they'll do everything they can to trap us here, kill us, and then calmly remove Kazumi from our corpses."

Byakuya felt a growl erupt from his throat, unbidden and vicioius. "Never! You must know some way to stop them - you used to rule the entire SMC, did you not?"

It was Yoruichi's turn to growl, but to Byakuya's surprise she didn't lash back at him. Instead, she muttered, "Yeah. Something like that." The tiny flush on her cheeks gave the distinct impression that she was moderately chagrined and immensely frustrated. Sensing Byakuya's curiosity, Yoruichi's brilliant eyes flashed in his direction. She blushed deeper, the walls of Twelfth flying by them as they ran.

Finally, she spoke quietly. "Byakuya-boo, why do you think I never returned to Soul Society after the War?"

Byakuya felt his jaw clench; it was a wonder how, after all this time, memory still rankled. "To remain with your lover, I would presume."

Yoruichi's flush stayed put. "Presume away, but it's not the _only_ reason. If I really wanted to come back, do you really think the _SMC_ could stop me?" They lost a moment dodging a trio of supersoldiers that appeared out of nowhere; cursing, Yoruichi guided them free and continued their mad dash before Byakuya caught her meaning.

Clarity hit Byakuya like a ton of bricks. "You could not return - the super soldiers would have prevented you."

"Exactly." Yoruichi darted down a side passage as dark shadows appeared before them; soldiers, blocking their path. Byakuya followed, barely catching her words even as her laconic grin gleamed in the low light. "Imagine, if you can, that there were factions within the SMC that were not entirely pleased when I took control a century ago. Imagine they discovered Kazumi, and her special talents made it all too easy to raise an army-within-an-army....something far too powerful for me to counter. Perfect recipe for a little coup, wouldn't you say?" Her sad smile tugged at Byakuya, for what reason he couldn't fathom. "When the shit hit the fan with Kisuke....well, the timing just sorta worked out."

Byakuya was equal parts focused on outrunning their danger, and engrossed in what Yoruichi was telling him. It was heady to contemplate that there might have been more than just a love-tryst behind the disappearance of his former betrothed all those years ago. Not that he had any time to process such information at a time like this, but Byakuya still found something oddly comforting in the thought that Yoruichi's flight might have had more ominous reasons than he'd previously considered...

"_Shit_."

Before Byakuya's very eyes, a group of soldiers seemed to materialize from nowhere. Caught off-guard, Yoruichi ran straight into the first of them, the solder's blade catching her mid-gut and spraying the walls with her blood...

It was quite convincing actually; had she not taught him her Utsusemi technique in their youth, Byakuya himself might have been fooled. As it was, Yoruichi's temporary illusion of herself - still falling from a seemingly mortal wound - did provide just enough of a distraction for the two of them to avoid direct contact with the soldiers, skittering free down the nearest available corridor.

Unfortunately, that only bought them enough time to find themselves pulling up short at a dead-end wall. A fully-intact Yoruichi skidded to a halt; Byakuya nearly ran into her in his own haste to halt his mad dash. Kazumi slipped in his grip, groaning.

Byakuya shifted his wife to a more comfortable position as he spun, growling out a furious spell at the soldiers closing in behind them. Again, the spell met resistance and petered out, ineffective.

Yoruichi snapped at him. "Haven't you figured it out yet – these soldiers were created to _kill shinigami_! The only way to stop them is to completely obliterate them, and we can't slice them _or_ use kidou."

"What in the name of the seven hells are we supposed to use, then?" Byakuya hissed ferociously. In his arms, Kazumi muttered and stirred again, a pained and pitiful sound. It nearly broke Byakuya's heart as he tried to reassure her, shusshing softly into her hair. _Do not worry, Love – I_ will _get you out of here_. He glanced around frantically; the figures were still closing in, although he couldn't figure out why they were advancing so slowly. _What are they waiting for??_

"Honestly," replied Yoruichi, her voice strange. "I don't _know_." Bya grolwed and turned to glare at her, but she just glared helplessly back. "If I knew how to defeat them - if I knew how to take down the people who command them - don't you think I would have done so ages ago?_ I don't know how to stop them_!"

Seething with an impotent rage wholly unfamiliar to him, Byakua whirled around, suddenly realizing why the soldiers were taking their time._ They have no fear of our escape. They are not using caution – they are savoring what can only be a victory._ Deep within him, Byakuya felt something start to howl. _NO! It cannot end this way-!!_

"It _is_ going to end, my Lord Husband," came a groggy but surprisingly alert voice from near his chest. "But not the way you think." Her black eyes barely open, every breath an obvious effort, Kazumi stirried in his arms and spoke the last thing on earth Byakuya would have expected.

_"Yuuma."_

Byakuya had no time at all to wonder why she had just spoken the name of her dead son's father. The instant the word left her lips, the super soldiers stopped in their tracks. A moment later, in a single unified motion, every single soldier dropped into a perfect military seiza and stayed there.

A long moment passed, frozen in stupefied tableau. Yoruichi found her voice first.

"Is....is _that_ what I think it was?"

"Yes," murumured Kazumi, sounding exhausted. "It's a safeword, buried deep in their psyches. They'll do anything I tell them to, now."

"Is it that easy?!" Byakuya realized he was gaping like a fish. "But, their orders-"

"Over-ridden. Trust me," Kazumi's consciousness was fading fast, her voice slipping into a mere whisper. "They're controlled by dozens of subsconsious triggers and safewords - you don't think I programmed a special one for myself? One that superceded all others? It doesn't even require reiatsu to work." Kazumi blinked, her blurry gaze finding Yoruichi, whose shock was rapidly shifting into dawning realization.

"Kazumi," Yoruichi whispered. "You just handed me the key to controlling the _entire_ SMC super army?"

Kazumi gave a tiny nod, her eyes slipping closed again. "Remember the safeword, and they'll do your every bidding..." Kazumi slumped, her head lolling back.

"Kazumi!" Byakuya cursed and carefully run a hand along her cheek, trying to draw her back. When several moments failed to revive her, he cursed more viciously. "Yoruichi-"

"Go," the Shihouin princess replied without hesitation. The concern in her voice failed to totally occlude her gleaming, golden eyes as she looked over her new army with a feral grin of satisfaction. "I'll take care of things here."

Byakuya wasted no time running for the previously abandoned exit and - the instant he was outside - flashed to Fourth like hell itself was on his heels.

* * *

Deep within the bowels of Twelfth squad, a slight figure huddled in the shadows of her now-former captain's quarters.

Nemu had learned a long time ago how to make herself small and silent. It helped to be invisible whenever her father went on a rant, and she did so love to be helpful. No one really understood that about her; all they did was shake their heads and wonder why she put up with everything her father did. But they never saw how much her father needed help, and how good she was at providing it. It was a wonderful thing to be useful. Some people talked of love, and when they did Nemu perked her ears up, but it was too foreign a concept for her to give it much credit. The idea intrigued her, perhaps tugged at a tiny piece of her psyche, but always in the remote kind of way that one remembers the faintest strains of a childhood lullabye...

Not that Nemu's father had ever sung her a childhood lullabye. Nor would he, now.

So, hidden in the darkness, Nemu made a concerted effort to watch the man in the center of the room as surreptitiously as possible. She had arrived too late to help - which, if anything, saddened her the most - and had relegated herself to watching the reiatsu duel that had ensued between her father and the man in the strange hat. Nemu had almost wished that her father had finished installing the optical recording device into her retinas, because she had found the entire duel quite fascinating. She was already calculating quite a few new science experiments that could be founded on the various forms of reiatsu maniupalation that the strange, pale man had employed so effectively....

"You can come out now, Nemu." A quiet, silvery voice drew Nemu from her ruminations. "I won't hurt you, if that's what you're afraid of." The pale man hadn't turned to look at her, but his calmness put Nemu instantly at ease.

Filled with curiosity, she took a step out of the shadows. "I am not programmed to be afraid."

"Ah, so - why were you hiding then?" The man turned then, a gentle smile on his face and eyes hidden in shadow.

"I was not hiding," corrected Nemu, drawing closer to the center of the room. "I was waiting and watching, so that I could discern the correct course of action."

"Ah," replied the man from somewhere beneath his green-striped hat. He continued, almost to himself. "So, he left your curiousity and reason intact. That's something, at least..." He sounded almost wistful.

Nemu found this statement strange. "You speak as if you knew my father?"

The man just smiled, an oddly strained look to his face. "Oh, I know a lot of things about Twelfth. I used to live here, you see. A long time ago, I was forced to leave - rather suddenly, I might add. It was at a very unfortunate time in my tenure actually...I had just figured out how to create a mod-soul that could harness and utilize reiatsu. Oh sure, I'd made plenty with anti-Hollow fighitng abilities, some even with the ability to use kidou. But never one with actual spirit power...." He trailed off for a moment, lost in memories. When he spoke again, it was nearly a whisper. "I was forced to leave a _lot_ of my favorite creations behind. For others to find...and use..."

The strange confession was tugging at very deep parts of Nemu, and she found the experience quite disturbing. She decided to examine her feelings later, choosing instead to investigate the remains on the floor.

Drawing alongside the pale man, Nemu stopped and regarded the large pool of green slime spread out before them. A long silence passed before she cocked her head curiously.

"Why did you kill my father?"

The man looked up and met her eyes, finally; something in the soft gray shadows gave Nemu pause. "Your father?" There was a strange tone to his voice, but before Nemu could decipher it the man continued. "Rest assured, child - I didn't kill anyone." He turned back to the slime, poking it lightly with a sandaled foot. "Technically, Mayuri Kurotsuchi is still very much alive. Of course, he'll never assume a corporeal form again, but that's that least he deserves."

Nemu found this fascinating, regarding the slime with a different mien. "So...you have trapped him in this state?"

The man nodded slowly, flaxen bangs falling across his eyes. "It's the most fitting punishement I could imagine for him. He'll be able to see and hear everything going on in the world around him, and his reason and brilliance will remain untampered. But he will never again be able to act on any of his sick ideas, nor will he be able to harm anyone again. It's the least I could do, and a far more permanent prison than the one from which I so blithley released him. Honestly, I had thought...."

Whatever the thought was died as the man beside her changed temperments and grinned rather suddenly. "So, Nemu - you've just been released from a century or more of cruel treatment by a twisted bastard! What are you going to do first?? And don't say Disneyland - my season passes have expired. Six Flags, perhaps?" The man grinned at her, teeth gleaming.

Nemu was instantly flustered. "What am I....to do?" She glanced nervously at the slime on the floor. She'd never decided for anything for herself. And she couldn't ask for orders anymore....for the first time in her life, Nemu felt totally at a loss. "I....don't know...." Feeling something akin to terror, she looked into the intensely compassionate grey eyes of the man before her. "What...do you think...I should do?"

The man smiled in a way that seemed like his heart was breaking. "I think you should learn how to become the kind of person who doesn't have to ask that question." Slowly, he raised his hand to her. "If you want to come with me, I could...perhaps...show you?"

The request - and when did anyone ever _request_ something of her? - was so hesitant, that Nemu entertained the idea that this strange man was almost....apologetic? That made no sense. Still....Nemu glanced at the floor, at the familiar slime one last time.

"There's nothing holding you here Nemu. If you choose to let me, I could help you start a new life, all your own."

The earnesty in his eyes - and something else; a hope for absolution? - decided Nemu in a heart beat. Without any further hesistation, she reached out and took his hand. It was a strange experience; she had no memory of being touched unless it was a beating.

"Where are we going?"

"To the real world," The man smiled brilliantly, his grip firm and warm. "You've got a younger brother and sister who are just dying to meet you."

* * *

Lungs burning, Rukia flew towards Fourth squad as fast as her little legs and mediocre shunpo could take her. It hadn't taken long for word to reach her at the Kuchiki manor; half of Sereitei was in an uproar over Byakuya's dramatic entrance to the healing squad. Just listening to the servants' rendition had sent shivers up and down Rukia's spine - Kuchiki Byakuya, ragged and battle worn, with the limp figure of his wife in his arms, hollaring to shake the walls until Unohana herself had personally appeared to attend the injured woman. One of the chefs had actually swooned from the tale, a stupidly romantic look on her face, but all Rukia had felt was ice seizing her vitals. She'd flash-stepped away that very instant, hating every single second that it took her to close the distance to the building where her sister-in-law hovered on the brink of death...

Finally emerging inside Fourth's walls, Rukia took a moment and while her breath caught; a few Fourth squad members immediately rushed towards her, no doubt to point her in the right direction - there could be no doubt as to why Rukia was there. Helpful as they were trying to be, Rukia almost felt bad for forstalling them and taking off in a dead run; her brother's tormented reiatsu drew her like a shot, and no directions were necessary. It didn't take long for her to find the right room, throw the door open.

Byakuya whirled at the motion, jumping up from the where he was kneeling on the floormats with a wave of panic flashing across his face. He looked as wretched as Rukia had ever seen him; haori torn and stained, his frame vibrating with emotion and fatigue. Somehow, he'd lost his kenseikan and the loose straggles of ebony across his sweat-stained face made him look painfully vulnerable. At the sight of her, he seemed to deflate a bit; face twisting, Byakuya made a tiny, miserable sound and let his arms drop open just the slightest bit.

It was all the invitation Rukia needed; without hesitation, she hurtled across the room and into his arms, engulfing her brother in the fiercest bear hug she could manage.

To her everlasting shock, he held her in return, clutching her tiny frame as if his very sanity depended on it. They stayed that way for a long time, Byakuya's ragged breath warming the top Rukia's head. Rukia thought her heart might break from the raw emotion spilling from her normally-restrained brother; never in her entire life had she loved him so much as this moment.

"She'll be okay - I _know_ she will," Rukia finally managed to murmur. Her words seemed to bring Byakuya back to himself; with a shudder, he loosened his hold on her just a bit and straightened, although he did not draw completely away from her. He seemed to need Rukia close.

"She is strong, and Unohana is with her..." He trailed off, looking miserable. Rukia forced a tremulous smile to her face.

"Have you heard anything yet? About how she's doing? What about the-?" Baby. Rukia gulped; it was too hard to say out loud, but Byakuya caught her meaning all too easily.

He just shook his head, heavily. "No word; Unohana just took her from my arms and insisted I stay out of the way...." A muscle along Byakuya's jaw jumped; Rukia could only imagine how well that had gone over. How gentle Unohana managed to make everyone obey her was one of the great mysteries of the afterlife, but appearantly even a terrified Byakuya hadn't been immune to the effect. "I have had no word since, about....either of them. I have just been here. Waiting." A horribly forlorn expression took hold of Byakuya's stunning face, misery pooling deep in his midnight blue eyes.

Her chest swelling with more feelings thant Rukia could name, she gently took her brother's hand and drew back down to the sitting mats on the floor.

"Then, Nii-sama, we will wait together."

* * *

It was with an odd sort off deja-vu that Byakuya sat in the dark at his wife's bedside, watching her slow, even breaths stir the sheets stretched across her slender frame. She looked so much smaller than when he'd last seen her, although that had been barely a day or two ago. He couldn't tell if it was echoes of endless hours of vigil for his first wife, or a displaced sort of sensation from when Kazumi had sat at his own bedside. At the very least, he determined that, to the best of his ability, he would ensure that neither of them saw the inside of a Fourth squad room for a very long time.

Of course, that meant arranging for a midwife and a home birth, but that should be well within the scope of one of the most powerful nobles in Sereitei to secure. And, for Kuchiki Byakuya's wife, nothing was unattainable.

He had lost count of how many hours had passed since Unohana had come to the waiting room with news. The relief that had flooded him at her reassurances had nearly undid him; once again, he'd found himself thanking the gods that he'd had Rukia to lean on. At another time, Byakuya might have wondered at such sentimental weakness in himself...but he had been through pain alone before, and found that sharing the burden was a habit not easy to unlearn.

_It is all your fault_, he thought, gazing fondly at his sleeping wife who, thought paler than usual, was well on the road to recovery. _You wormed your way into my heart, and the door now opened refuses to swing shut again_...

"You act like that's a bad thing."

With a jolt, Byakuya's eyes snapped up to meet Kazumi's, peeking back at him with a tiny smile. Byakuya felt his eyes widen in concern; she just chuckled softly.

"No, I'm not 'looking'. I wouldn't risk it, and I don't need to anyway. Your thoughts are all over your face." Kazumi raised a hand just enough to brush a strand of hair out of Byakuya's eyes; he caught her wrist and kissed it lightly.

"No one has ever accused me of being transparent." He absently tried to get his voice to sound perturbed and failed miserably, his own lips tugging up into a hint of a smile.

"Yeah, well, I'm not like anyone else." Kazumi whispered back, something glorious to look at lighting her eyes from behind.

Byakuya leaned forward and whispered across her lips. "You could say that again." And then he made sure she could say nothing at all, capturing her in the most delicate kiss he could manage.

After a delicious moment, Kazumi pulled back, a certain sadness shadowing her enormous eyes. "Byakuya...how can I ever apologize for everything..." He tried to shush her, but his brilliant, stubborn wife just shook her head, her voice firming. "I should have told you everything, from the very beginning-"

"We both know that I would not have believed you," Byakuya returned firmly, allowing a finger to trail along the gentle curve of her cheek. "Or, had I believed, I would have cast you out before..." He broke off, a tiny hint of color warming his own cheeks.

If Kazumi could still read his feelings on his face, this time she wanted him to voice them. "Before?" She asked quietly.

Byakuya gazed straight into her eyes as he spoke. "Before I fell in love with you."

Kazumi shuddered slightly, but held his gaze with a certain determination. "And how can you ever trust your feelings towards me, know what I can do...what I have seen..."

"How can _you_ trust _mine_?" The return caught Kazumi glancing up at him in a sudden understanding. Byakuya continued, calmly resolute. "I have had much time to think, Wife. And if you have truly seen all there is to me, then there is no one else in the universe whom I can trust _more_." Tears slowly filled Kazumi's eyes as Byakuya's voice dropped to a husky whisper. "It is I who should apologize...although it is almost obscene to ask for your trust, after everything I have done to you....everything that I _allowed_ to happen, in my anger..."

This time it was Kazumi who silenced him, catching him in a kiss suprising in it ferocity considering she was lying in a hospital bed.

"Kuchiki-taicho, I just brought your wife back from the edge of death; I would appreciate if you did not undo my efforts by asphixiating her."

Byakuya broke off, blushing faintly even though Unohana was clearly only twitting him. Despite the clear evidence of Kazumi's improvement, he couldn't help but watch intently as Unohana moved over to the bed and, with a gentle smile towards Kazumi, let her hand hover over her for a long moment.

"You are improving by the hour. I daresay you will be back on your feet within a day or two," Unohana said quietly, turning to meet Byakuya's dark eyes with a brilliant smile. "And yes, your pregnancy thirves. Of course, it is too early to tell yet, but I can say with certainty that you are having-"

"A boy." "A girl?" Byakuya and Kazumi flushed as simultaneously as they spoke, glancing at each other with chagrin. Unohana just chuckled warmly.

"Twins, actually. So it is quite possibly you will have one of each."

Byakuya's own shock was mirrored in Kazumi's eyes, as they spent a breathless moment lost in delighted wonder. Unohana finally cleared her throat softly, drawing their reluctant attention.

"Now, if you don't mind - Kazumi needs her rest..."

"I stay here." Byakuya interjected immediately.

"...and she would probably be more comfortable at home." Unohana finished with an exasperated sigh and a knowing grin. Byakuya's heart leapt in his chest. "But only if you promise to carry her as gently as possible, and call me if she wakes in the night with any discomfort..."

The rest faded into background prattle as Byakuya swiftly and with utmost delicacy scooped up his wife along with a comfortable swath of the blankets. With a nod and an absent mumble of agreement, Byakuya shunpo'd them away as fast as his tired reiatsu could manage.

Kazumi yelped and gripped him tighter. "Ungh, I'm glad I was unconscious the last time you did this..." She screwed her eyes shut with a grimace. "Tell me when it's over."

In a totally foreign wave of sensation, Byakuya felt a chuckle burble up out of him. "We will be home in minutes. And I will get to rectify something in the process..."

"Rectify what?" Kazumi squinted out of the corner of one eye. "You saved my life - and the lives of our unborn children - from a sick lunatic. What else could possibly be more chivalrous?"

Emerging from his final shunpo at the doorstep of his ancestral manse, he looked deeply into his wife's eyes and felt his heart swell fit to burst.

"I get to carry you across the threshold..."


	15. Chapter 15 Epilogue LEMON

Kazumi made the final adjustment to her finely-embroidered obi and paused, scrutinizing her image in the mirror. Tucking an imaginary strand of stray hair back into the smooth and elaborate bun at the back of her head, Kazumi mentally ran through the list of everything that still had to be accomplished before the event at the Kuchiki manor this evening. Barely over an hour remained before guests were due to arrive, and still the food must be artfully arranged, the choicest sake set to warm, the musicians had still to arrive much less tune their instruments...

"Anything I can help with?"

With a tiny jump, Kazumi threw a glare towards her mirror at the black shadow hovering by the window. "Have you taken up the art of reading minds, Cousin?"

The harsh, masculine voice chuckled as black ears twitched. "Hells, no. I already know what most people think of me, and those I don't know I could care less." Alighting delicately on the ornate rugs, the tiny black cat padded over and leapt effortlessly onto Kazumi's vanity.

"You're of no use to me without opposable thumbs." Kazumi smirked. "Why on earth are you here in that state?"

The cat managed to pout. "I haven't picked a dress yet." Yoruichi sniffed delicately at a perfume orb and then promptly sneezed. "Besides, it's easier to climb through windows when I'm smaller than a breadbox." The tiny black form yawned, suddenly bored. "If you really need help setting up the party, I could have your army here in a heartbeat."

"It's _your_ army," Kazumi replied without hesitation. "And you seem to be doing just fine with them so far."

It was quite possibly the understatement of the decade. The SMC and those who commanded them had been smart enough never to send super-soldiers anywhere near a fully hale and conscious Kazumi for fear that she would take control of them. In every 'assassination-cum-kidnapping' attempt, it had only been regular SMC soldiers that had been sent after their former prodigy. However, they had made the gravest tactical error in centuries that day of Byakuya and Yoruichi's invasion of Twelfth. Desperate not to lose Kazumi again, and operating on the assumption that Kazumi was half-dead and would not be anywhere near conscious, they had sent every super soldier on the roster into the fray to stop her rescue. Kazumi's brief moment of coherence had rather unexpectedly turned the tables, and sent over a hundred years of planning on the part of the Shihouin faction into complete ruin.

Yoruichi had wasted no time whatsoever cashing in on her military good fortune; the retribution she'd visited upon the Shihouin clan faction that had ousted her over a century ago had been positively cataclysmic. The repercussions of the former princess reclaiming her ancestral title and bringing justice to those who had caused both herself and Kazumi so many miserable years would probably ripple on within the clan for eons. Of course, in true Shihouin fashion, all was done in utmost secret; few outside the clan had had any indication that anything at all had changed.

Except, of course, that Shihouin Yoruichi had finally moved back to Sereitei and taken up residence in her home once more. But as that had happened right about the same time Urahara Kisuke had returned and resumed his place as captain of the Tweflth squad to replace a certain missing mad scientist, there was already another big story circulating among the Sereitei gossip circles. Quite a few of those circles lost money betting on whether or not Yoruichi would challenge Soi Fon and reclaim her own captaincy; when no such thing occurred, the pools started up again in favor of Yoruichi assuming the vice seat in Tweflth. Again disappointed, the rampaging scandals settled down after much hubub as to what the Shihouin princess _was_ doing with her time. However, when Kisuke also took up residence in the Shihouin manse not long after his reinstatement, those rumors took a decidedly licencious turn and all political intrigue was forgotten.

Which was exactly how Yoruichi liked it - mysterious and unexplained. Soi Fon continued as captain of Second squad and leader of the SMC, while Yoruichi quietly reigned over the latter with her secret and undefeatable army; how they shared power no one knew, and neither woman was the type you asked about that sort of thing. Whatever they had worked out seemed amicable to both of them, and after a while the whole scandal was quite forgotten. And frankly, that suited Kazumi just fine as well; although Yoruichi constantly offered to turn the superarmy over to its creator, Kazumi could imagine no worse horror than staring into the eyes of someone she herself had stripped down to nothing, and then using them as a tool to kill. It had taken much explanation to her husband, who still struggled with understanding her reticence in accepting power rightfully due her, but while Yoruichi continued to make the offer she seemed to understand the refusals with all grace.

As such, the cat simply nodded and licked at a smudge of rumpled fur. "Very well, then - I'd better get home and make a wardrobe decision so I can return in style. Hell, it's going to take me at least an hour to convince Kisuke to put something _somewhat_ dressy on, much less getting him to shave..."

"Did you find out if the kids would be coming, too?" Kazumi inquired.

Yoruichi leapt across the room and onto the windowsill with a snort. "Ururu will, but Jinta's S.O.L. - grounded again." With a final chuckle, the cat dropped out of sight into the garden beyond and vanished.

Kazumi found herself chuckling as well. While she knew little of the backstory behind the former Twelfth vice-captain's relocation to the real world, she was all too aware of the fact that the girl had taken up the management of the Urahara Shoten and showed no signs of returning to Soul Society anytime soon. If Kisuke's stories were anything to go by, the girl Nemu had taken to running the business as effortlessly as a fish takes to water, and was just as enchanting to the customers as she was efficient at turning a healthy profit. She also ruled the shop's other regular inhabitants with an iron fist, protecting young Ururu with a sort of preternatural vigilance - much to Jinta's eternal chagrin - and appearantly had Tessai wrapped around her little finger.

With a final pat of hair and one last check in the mirror, Kazumi promptly put everything but the evening ahead of her out of her mind, and went in search of her husband.

* * *

Life, Kuchiki Byakuya decided, was an incredibly infuriating experience.

An unholy mix of all things glorious and horrifying, intoxicating and fearsome, it did whatever the hell it wished and stubbornly dismissed all efforts to control, predict or govern it. And no matter what one thought on the matter, no matter what higher evaluation or philosophy one discerned, life simply kept on its own path and velocity and didn't give a damn about anyone's opinion.

In this, Byakuya decided, it was entirely possible that the fragile humans of the real world and the god-like warriors of the afterlife were equals. Time and circumstance, fate and destiny, all cared nothing for the sensibilities of any sentient being regardless of power or status. What was, simply was.

It was the duty of every living being to make of that what they may.

So Byakuya thought, immersed among the blooming sakuras of his private garden, the gentle petals raining down around him like pink snowfall and absolution.

That is, until small hands clapped over his eyes and darkness descended.

Byakuya sighed, fighting off a smile. "I wonder - do you honestly believe that I do not know who it is that assails me? Wife?"

A giggle from behind him. "No, but it's fun to catch you off-guard nonetheless. You're oozing sentimentality all over the place, it's a wonder you didn't sense my approach." Warm fingers pulled away even as Byakuya turned to look over his shoulder into the sparkling eyes of his beloved. Kazumi giggled again. "Are you sure you are up to being 'lord of the manor' this evening? I know how much you hate parties."

Byakuya caught a tiny hand, his lips grazing a delicate wrist before he replied. "I am sure," he murmured against the pulse that fluttered in his grip. "And I do not hate them as much as in the past."

Kazumi just grinned at him, a slightly impish twist to the expression. "Oh, really? Then why is it Senbonzakura came out last time...?"

If Byakuya thought that he had long ago gotten used to his wife twigging him, he was constantly proven wrong. A slightly irked, defensive tone sprang readily to his lips. "If Kurosaki insists on mauling my sister before my very eyes, then it is my duty to teach him manners. He cannot presume to join this family without any pretense at etiquette..."

Kazumi's hair in his mouth shut him up as she engulfed him in an amused hug. "Oh, is _that _what you were doing? Teaching Ichigo the impropriety of kissing his fiance in public?" A snicker warmed Byakuya's ear. "And what about the time the servants caught _us _in the library-?"

Such insolence could not be borne, so Byakuya captured his wife's lips and made sure she could say no more. By the time she managed to break his kiss, she was considerably more breathless than she had started.

"Seriously, Husband," she giggled against his lips, a certain immutability appearing behind her eyes. "You must get changed immediately; the guests are due to arrive within the hour."

"An hour," Byakuya murmured, leaning in to trail kisses along the elegant slope of Kazumi's neck. "That is just enough time..."

_"Papa!!"_

Byakuya stiffened and drew back with a subliminal growl of frustration, catching Kazumi's eyes in the process; she seemed amused and identically frustrated in equal measure. But there was nothing for it - once Ichiru found them, there was little that would dissuade the tiny hellion from being properly attended to. Turning, Byakuya tried to appear that he had not been moments from ravaging the mother of his children.

Like a miniature whirlwind, his progeny emerged from the house and raced towards them with unfettered glee.

"What is it, son?" Byakuya forced an imposing frown to his face. "Have I not instructed you that such an unannounced intrusion is impolite-?"

As usual, his glower - which was designed to inspire respectful obedience and no small amount of fear - was thoroughly ignored as his boisterous son darted energetically around the sakuras. "We're having a paaaaaarty tonight!! _Whee!!!"_ The boy roared with glee and seemed determined to fell the flourishing lavender with a slender reed. His young face, though it showed promise of maturing into a mirror of Byakuya's own angled features, as usual was darkened with dirt and suntan from endless hours of outdoor mischief. The child's bright blue eyes gleamed with keen intelligence and energy as he launched capered around the garden.

"I _tried _to tell him, Papa." The quiet voice accompanied the solemn expression of his daughter, as Hisame proceeded with all the dignity her tiny, seven-year old figure could muster down the prim garden path, each step carefully placed and deliberately graceful. "He _never _listens." This, accompanied with a weighty sigh of the much-beleaguered, caused Byakuya's eyebrow to rise slightly. His pale, quiet daughter with her enormous black eyes never ceased to stun him with the promise of unparalleled beauty that would one day be hers, even when she managed to sound like a tiny librarian most of the time. For his part, Byakuya - war hero several times over and powerful noble to boot - feared little more than the day when suitors would come calling on his little gem.

Kazumi jumped in, darting after Ichiru with a patient look on her face. "Well, he's just excited..."

"_It's my birthday it's my birthday it's my birthday!!"_ The boy hollered ferociously, leaping out from behind a sakura to land in the middle of a lavender plant with a growl. Kazumi got there just in time to save the plant before it was beheaded on top of being trampled. Undeterred, Ichiru began jumping up and down, absently wreaking destruction on the undergrowth. "When is everyone coming?! They'd better bring a LOT of presents, or Papa will beat them up! Won't you, Papa!?"

"You father is not going to beat anyone up," Kazumi interjected, exasperated.

Ichiru remained unconvinced. "But, he did _last _time-!"

Kazumi spared a single, withering look at Byakuya before grabbing firm hold of her son. "Enough of that - I've already talked to your father and there won't be any such nonsense tonight. Now, let's get you changed into some proper clothing before everyone gets here and sees you looking like a fithy street urchin." She proceeded to lead Ichiru off, dirty clothes and all and protesting up a storm.

"I'd better go help Mama, you know what a handful he is." The small voice at his side drew Byakuya's attention; his prim daughter often did that, her presence all too easy to forget despite her cherubic beauty when her whirlwind of a twin was bouncing around.

_She is too serious_, Byakuya fretted within his own mind, resting a hand on Hisame's head and allowing a fond smile to grace his face. "You should wash up and change as well." It was an irrelevant statement; Hisame was _never _dirty, and her fashion sense easily outpaced even her mother's.

Hisame realized it too, giving her father a flat look that was eerily similar to the one Kazumi had given him only moments before. "Of course, Papa," she replied, for all the world as if she were indulging him. "It's my birthday, too, after all." Simply spoken and succinct, she drifted off into the shadows and disappeared.

Byakuya watched his family retreat towards the manse with an all-too-familiar sensation that he had yet, after all these years, to properly categorize. It was the same sort of weightiness that he felt with Senbonzakura, the same contradictory lightness, but without the calm confidence he experienced while handling his zanpaktou with mastery. This was more like watching his soul leap and dance about beyond his control, never knowing when or if some harm would come to it. He had heard that having children was like having your heart beat outside your body, but had never considered its veracity until the day he had witnessed the birth of the twins, beautiful as the moonlight and as different as night and day.

And with perfectly healthy psyches, well within normal parameters. Or so Kazumi constantly assured him, despite Byakuya's concern over his wild son and frighteningly prepossessed daughter.

"It is natural for them to diverge and differentiate from each other," Kazumi had told him time out of count, always with a hint of patient indulgence. "_Trust _me - I would know if they were damaged in any way." Then her eyes would shadow, her voice grow too serious, and Byakuya would be forced to kiss the memories away and smother Kazumi with his own assurances.

A loud crash emanating from the house drew Byakuya back to the present...and once again, a tiny part of his brain wondered about his offspring. He trusted Kazumi's evaluation, of course....but he could not fathom where such wild rambunctiousness could have come from. _Certainly not from Kazumi._..

With a sigh and a firm determination not to explore that mental path any further - and a stoic dismissal of Senbonzakura's subliminal chuckle - Byakuya trailed off towards the house to don more proper attire and to see what priceless heirloom his son had destroyed this time.

* * *

"Well, _that_ could have gone better."

Byakuya ignored the statement long enough to make sure Senbonzakura was properly re-sheathed and placed on her stand, before turning and meeting his wife's onyx eyes with a level gaze. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't play innocent with me!" Kazumi snapped, trying to look furious. The slight upcurve of her full mouth ruined the effect. "Was that absolutely necessary?"

"My behavior this evening was impeccable," Byakuya insisted, moving across their private suite towards the dressing area and beginning the arduous process of removing his formal robes. He could not have been happier that the birthday party was over, the distant sounds of the last few lingering guests making their good-nights echoing through the halls.

"Huh, really." Kazumi drifted over to join him, positioning herself so the he could help with her obi; he did so from long practice, staring down at the soft tendrils of ebony hair at the base of her skull. Kazumi continued, her voice heating. "You all but gave Abarai-san a new set of tattoos..."

"He was reaching for the birthday cake," Byakuya returned, his voice rising over his wife's attempt to protest. "_Before_ the candles had been blown out. His manners were reprehensible."

"That's no reason to send your shikai after his arm! Honestly, he's a captain now too; must you continue to bitch-slap him whenever the opportunity presents itself??" Byakuya should have had something to say to that, but he was far too distracted by the layers of clothing that were obediently sloughing off his wife's body. "You know, I seem to recall us having a tiny little conversation about keeping Senbonzakura sealed this time around..."

"I did as instructed and did not threaten Ichigo," Byakuya maintained, leaning down to place a tiny kiss on the warm, fragrant curve of spine.

Kazumi spun around, eyes flashing and having none of it. "I meant _everyone_, Byakuya! Honestly, if you keep drawing on all our guests, events at the Kuchiki manor will be sparsely attended."

"And that would be a crime?" Byakuya pulled his wife into his arms, insistent. Gazing into the wells of her eyes from this close did terrible things to his self-control. "Is the thought of spending your evenings alone with your husband so odious?"

"Hrm, odious. Something like that." Kazumi teased, allowing herself to be pulled in for a kiss. By the time she drew back with a smokey grin, Byakuya's heart was throbbing right out of his chest. "I think I know the _real _reason you pull out your sword like that."

Hearing an entirely different level of meaning in his wife's luscious tone, Byakuya pressed a very urgent part of his anatomy hard against her, his embrace tightening with desire. Leaning down, he breathed hotly across her tiny pink earlobe. "And that would be...?"

Kazumi pulled his lips closer, her own sweet breath caressing his lips. "I think she gets you hot."

With a low growl, Byakuya scooped Kazumi into his arms and strode towards the sleeping chamber. "Not nearly as much as you do, Wife."

Kazumi twisted in his arms with a delicious purr, squirming until she had her legs firmly wrapped around his waist; it was all Byakuya could do to walk straight and place her on their bedmats without actually dropping her. Managing a rather graceful movement considering the state of his ardor, Byakuya lay his wife down amidst the soft blankets and drew back enough to drink in the sight of her slender body arching beneath him. For a long moment, he trailed his fingers gently along the elegant, firm curves of her body, watching with barely restrained delight as her skin pricked and quivered beneath his touch. The low moans the reverberated from deep within Kazumi's throat nearly drove Byakuya over the edge, and long before he thought he would succumb, he found himself unable to restrain himself any longer.

He leaned in, feverish to bury himself in his wife's sweet softness, but Kazumi wasn't prepared to let him have his way with her quite yet. Ingeniously squirming at just the right angle to keep his throbbing member from its destination, she took her own time running fingers across Byakuya's pale, wide shoulders and down his back, teasing the taut muscles of his buttocks until Byakuya was quivering with need. Eyes closed, he drank in her ministrations and wondered, as he often did, how she knew exactly what way to touch him that would bring him the most pleasure....

Impossibly, a thought suddenly struck Byakuya and in shock, he wondered why it had never occurred to him before. Gazing at his wife with intense, hooded eyes, he managed a hoarse whisper.

"Kazumi," he gasped, losing a moment as she teased a nipple. "Do you ever 'look' to see how to please me?"

She giggled, a light flick at his chest stealing his breath away. "Of course, silly. Why," she suddenly pouted, her eyes darkening seductively. "Don't you like the results?"

The next few moments required no words as he answered her question quite thoroughly. When they both found a moment to breathe, Byakuya felt a tiny smile curving his lips as he met Kazumi's gaze again. "Yet, it is a shame that I cannot return the favor..."

Kazumi grinned, kittenish. "What makes you think that?"

Byakuya froze, the sweat on his skin prickling. "You can...share your thoughts as well as you can read others?"

Those stunning, midnight eyes widened as Kazumi nodded, breathless. "Of course," she murmured, drawing him close. "I thought you'd never ask..."

Her insistent fingers on his hindquarters drew Byakuya into her hot core, the motion nearly undoing Byakuya completely. The moment his manhood made contact with her, Byakuya was flooded with the duel sensation of entering as well as being entered, Kazumi's own pleasure doubling back onto his own and catapulting him into an entirely new arena of ecstasy. Like standing between two mirrors, when one's image is replicated ad infinitum, so Byakuya and Kazumi shared and mirrored and heightened each other's pleasure until they were both rocked to completion, their bodies united as one as they soared through the heavens.


End file.
